Ink and Intimacy
by Indelible Evidence
Summary: In Los Angeles, Jane Doe has just opened her first tattoo studio, NYO Ink, and she's moved on with her life. That is, until she gets an unexpected new client... Set five years after season 2's finale, assuming that Jane moved to California after Sandstorm's fall.
1. Surprise

**Author's Note:** Oops. I finish one WIP and immediately start another one. *facepalm*

Anyway, this is canon divergence set five years after the team take down Sandstorm. (Bethany was never conceived, Kurt and Jane never got together, and season three never happened. Instead, after season two ended, Jane moved to California because Kurt and Nas were happy together. But that was five years ago.)

* * *

"Jane! Your two o'clock is here."

At Marlowe's call, Jane Doe closed the book she'd been reading with a sigh. Her lunch break flew by so fast when she got caught up in a fictional world. "One second," she called, sliding the book back onto the shelf. After cleaning up the wrappers left over from her lunch, she checked her phone quickly for messages, then stood up, stretching her arms over her head.

Her next client, according to the booking sheet, was named Kyle West, and this would be his first tattoo. Jane hoped he wasn't one of the guys who looked tough, but turned into sobbing babies in the chair. _Only one way to find out._

She left the small kitchenette area and headed for the front of the building, with its comfortable waiting area and books of flash for indecisive clients to look through. Marlowe had the radio turned up too loud again, and she gave him a quick frown. Rolling his eyes, her assistant turned down the music as she called, "Kyle West?"

It was only after she'd said the name that she focused on the man standing with his back to her, gazing out of the window at the sun-drenched street. Even before he turned at the sound of her voice, her heart skipped a beat. _It can't be…_

"Not quite," Kurt Weller said, taking a step towards her, "but it wouldn't have been a surprise if you'd seen my name and known I was coming."

"Kurt!" Jane crossed the waiting room to give him a quick hug of greeting. "It's so good to see you."

He wrapped his arms around her in return, and she closed her eyes, resisting the urge to press her nose against his shoulder and just breathe him in. She'd missed how he smelled, the way his face lit up when he saw her…everything. She'd missed everything.

Before she could get over-emotional, she pulled back to arms' length and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get a tattoo." He grinned at her surprise. "What? Did you think I booked up an appointment spot to waste your time?"

"No, I just… You never seemed like the type to want tattoos, and even if you did, there are plenty of studios in New York that would be happy to tattoo you." She beckoned for him to follow her into her studio, which was clean and professional, but still had touches of her personality throughout. Once he was inside, she shut out Marlowe's curious gaze before gesturing to the leather recliner in the middle of the room. "Have a seat."

"Hmm," Kurt said, his eyes still amused at the way he'd managed to surprise her. "Maybe I got confused on the way to work and ended up here. Similar names, and all."

Jane grinned. "Yeah, that seems totally plausible."

She'd called her new studio NYO Ink, feeling nostalgic for her past, when she'd headed to the New York Office of the FBI every day. After they'd thwarted Shepherd's plans and Hirst had officially released her from any obligation to the Bureau, Jane had bid farewell to her old life and moved to Los Angeles. Now, five years later, she was settled into her new existence, but she'd never quite stopped missing the thrill of investigating her old tattoos.

"Did Patterson tell you about the studio?" she asked, calling up the design he'd requested on her computer. It was taking a while to load, so she turned back to find Kurt watching her.

"She mentioned it, yeah." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You should have let me know. Been wondering how you are."

Jane shrugged, turning back to her screen so he wouldn't see how awkward she felt. "I figured you'd be happier without constant reminders of one of the most stressful periods in your life."

He sighed. "You're my friend. We saw each other almost every day for nearly two years. Of _course_ I'm gonna be interested in what you're doing now."

The computer finally complied with her wishes, and Jane studied the design from her flash portfolio—a broken hourglass in a desert, with sand swirling around it. "Do you actually want me to tattoo a sandstorm on you?" she asked, changing the subject.

He was quiet for a moment, as though making a point that he'd noticed, then said, "Yeah. I was looking through the designs on your website, and it seemed to fit, somehow. The Sandstorm case has been the most important one of my career, so I thought it was worth commemorating."

Jane nodded. "Where are we putting it?"

They conferred back and forth, finalising the details on the design and its size, before Jane hit the button to print it at the exact size he wanted. While the printer did its work, Kurt eyed her arms. "How long did those take?"

Jane looked down at her newer sleeve tattoos, so much different from the ones she'd woken up with when she'd been ZIPped. The left was a fiery phoenix emerging from a duffel bag, and she knew the symbolism wouldn't be lost on Kurt. The other was the Manhattan skyline at night, the dark harbour waters swirling down below the elbow to an abstract pattern of deep blues and greens.

"About twenty hours each, plus the time it took to fade down the old ones enough to cover them properly."

"Ouch."

She shrugged. "After three months in a CIA black site, these were nothing."

"Jane…" She looked up to see the old remorse in his face, and traces of hurt. He still blamed himself, after all this time?

"Really, Kurt, it's fine." She gave him a quick smile before moving over to the washbasin to clean her hands. "Water under the bridge."

For a couple of minutes, they were quiet while she traced the simplified version of the design, using a special ink that would transfer to his skin on contact. Then she kicked her stool closer to the recliner, put on a pair of gloves, and picked up her sterilising wipes. "Okay, let me clean your skin before I put the stencil on."

She'd done this hundreds of times, to hundreds of clients, in far more intimate places than Kurt was getting his tattoo. But as she took hold of his forearm to clean the area, from just below the inside of his elbow to just above his inner wrist, Jane felt almost flustered at the contact.

 _You're wearing gloves, for God's sake! Your skin isn't even touching his. Get it together!_

Carefully, she applied the stencil to the skin, smoothing it down before peeling it away, leaving in place the linework that she could use as a reference for her art. She studied the placement for a moment before nodding, satisfied. "Last chance to back out," she teased.

"Nope. I'm ready."

She heard him take a deep breath as she tore open the sterile packaging, as though psyching himself up for the pain, but when she sat down next to him with the handheld tattoo machine, he seemed calm.

He flinched when she first applied the buzzing needle to his skin, but adjusted to the sensation quickly, relaxing. "Doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would."

She shot him an amused look. "Before you congratulate yourself on how badass you are, get something tattooed on your ribs. Then we'll talk."

They bantered back and forth as she worked, and Jane's spirits hadn't been so high in months—she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed talking to him outside of life or death situations. Kurt, on the other hand, got quieter as time went on, his responses shorter and simpler.

"You okay?" she asked after he'd been silent for a while, and lifted the machine from his skin so that she could check on him properly.

"Hmm? Yeah," he said slowly, making her bite back a smile. "I just feel a little high, is all. It's kinda nice."

Jane continued her work, wiping away ink and traces of blood every now and then. "You've got a masochistic streak, huh?"

He frowned without opening his eyes. "What? No. I don't enjoy pain. I've been wounded enough times to know that."

"Not all pain is the same. If it's something like this, or like…" She tried to think of something else consensual-pain-related that wasn't BDSM, but came up blank. "Like, I don't know, being spanked hard. If you're expecting the pain and you accept it, you can ride the endorphin rush like a natural drug."

Now he was definitely paying attention. "So you think I like being spanked? Hard?"

Jane rolled her eyes to cover the fact that hearing him say that had given her butterflies. The laziness in his tone made her imagine them lying together in bed after sex, recovering from incredible orgasms. "It was an example. That's between you and your partner." To re-establish the boundary between them, she added, "Speaking of which, how _is_ Nas?"

Kurt was already holding still for the tattoo, but at her words he somehow became even more motionless. "No idea. Haven't seen her in about two years."

Why did her pulse spike at the idea that he was single? Hadn't she learned her lesson, that pining over Kurt Weller led to nothing but heartache? If he'd wanted her, he could have chosen her. Instead, he'd gotten serious with Nas as they'd grown close to taking down Sandstorm. Seeing them together had hurt so much that she'd fled to the opposite coast the moment she could.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, still focusing on the needle. "I had no idea. I just assumed—"

"It's okay." He sounded pretty relaxed about it, which lessened some of the awkwardness between them. "It's been a while. I guess I just thought you already knew it was over."

Jane shook her head with a quick smile, then tilted his arm a little as she began to add smaller details to the basic design.

After a few more seconds, he asked, "How about you? Anyone special in your life these days?"

 _As if anyone could compare to how I imagine we could have been together._

She'd tried a few different guys, a few different dates, but no one had been able to diffuse her intensity the way he could.

"No," she said simply, and they lapsed back into silence for a while.

When she next glanced up, Kurt was gazing at her with the slight haziness of an endorphin rush, a slight smile on his face. As she put the finishing touch on the detailing around the base of the hourglass, she tried to imagine what he was thinking.

"How did you end up becoming a tattoo artist?"

That, at least, was easier to answer. "I wanted to get my tattoos removed after I moved down here. Everything with Roman and Shepherd just kinda left a bad taste in my mouth, you know? So I went to have them lasered off, bit by bit as I could afford it. The woman doing my treatments was curious about why I wanted so many tattoos removed after I'd paid so much to have my whole body inked, and when I said it hadn't exactly been my choice, she was curious. So I said I'd tell her what happened, in exchange for a lesson with the tattoo machine."

"Huh."

She wasn't sure if the endorphins were making him uncommunicative, or if he just wanted to hear more. Either way, she continued, "Don't worry—I gave her the unclassified version. Telling people who I used to be doesn't really seem wise. But she mentored me through tattooing my thighs, asked to see some of my designs, and then I became her apprentice. Then earlier this year, I got my own little place."

"And called it NYO Ink." Kurt flexed his fingers as she set down the machine. "And you have a New York skyline tattoo. Seems to me like you're missing New York."

"Yeah," she admitted, checking her art one more time. "Sometimes."

"You could always come back," he said, his gaze intent on her face.

Jane stared at him for a moment, then cleared her throat, changing the subject. "What do you think of the tattoo? Anything you want me to add?"

He studied his newly inked skin with genuine admiration for her skill. "It's amazing, Jane. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She grabbed her aftercare supplies and reeled off the information that was now ingrained within her memory – about the healing process, how to care for the wounds left by the needle, and what he should avoid doing. Focusing on her job made it easier to be here with him, knowing that he was about to walk out of her studio—and her life—once again.

"It's all on my website, anyway, so if you forget anything, it's all there."

Kurt examined the dressing she'd applied before dropping his arm to his side. "What are you doing tonight? Wanna grab some dinner? Catch up some more?"

"Sure." Why did it feel like she was being pulled towards something inevitable? Wishful thinking had never gotten her anywhere. "I have another client now, but there's a great little Chinese restaurant about half a block away."

"Sounds good." His smile warmed her like the sun. She'd forgotten how much she'd missed being the target of those smiles.


	2. Impressing a Pretty Girl

**Author's Note** : I figured that after the total trauma of the season premiere (OMG KURT LET ME COMFORT YOU!) we could all use a little fluff. This is mostly just a recap of the five years post-Sandstorm and the dynamics of the team, but there's also Kurt being a little giddy about his date. ;)

* * *

Kurt spent the next couple of hours on the beach, walking along the shoreline in his bare feet, before finding a quiet spot to sit and stare at the incoming tide.

Had he really just gotten a tattoo to impress a pretty girl? He laughed quietly to himself, digging his toes into the sand as he glanced down at the dressing covering his new ink.

If not for Jane, he would never have considered getting a tattoo, but when Patterson had told him about NYO Ink, Jane's new business venture, he'd wanted to somehow show her his support. It had been five years since she'd left New York, and her contact with him had tapered off to nothing, less than eighteen months after she'd moved to the West Coast. It had been so obvious that she was barely invested in their friendship that he'd almost been glad to put her out of his mind. It had hurt less that way than getting two-word replies to his text messages.

But when he'd heard the news about Jane's studio, and he'd checked out her website out of curiosity, there had been a picture of Jane tattooing some guy's back. She hadn't been looking at the camera when it was taken, and was completely absorbed in her work. It had reminded him of how she used to look when she'd sat at her desk in SIOC, her head bent over paperwork, her hair curling against her jawline as she'd given a thoughtful frown.

All the old feelings had come rushing back, memories he'd suppressed coming to the forefront of his mind again. How she'd catch his eye and silently signal her intent before they'd take down a suspect together, determination in her face. The way she'd look up at him through her lashes sometimes, a slight smile on her lips. The tentative touch of her hand against his neck when they'd kissed.

He'd known he at least had to see her, to figure out if she was happy, to see if that indefinable spark between them was still there. He could pretend he was over her for the rest of his life, but without closure—without her telling him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't interested in trying to rekindle their relationship—he'd never allow himself to be truly happy with anyone else.

He could have just called her studio when he got into town, asked if she wanted to go grab a coffee together. But part of him had been afraid she'd just turn him down, and he wouldn't even be able to see her face to face. Neither had he wanted to show up at her studio without a reason, because her business was still new, and he didn't want to distract her from her clients or take up time she could be using to make money.

As he'd browsed through her online portfolio, he'd come across the broken hourglass tattoo design, and he'd instantly guessed she'd been thinking of Sandstorm when she'd drawn it. That was when he'd begun to consider getting a tattoo of his own. The Sandstorm case—though he hadn't known anything about Sandstorm when Jane had first been brought to the NYO—had changed his life, and it was very unlikely any other case he landed would be as critical or as far-reaching as that one had been. Since tattoos were integral to the Sandstorm investigation, it seemed fitting that he should mark it with a tattoo of his own.

And, yeah, he'd hoped that while Jane was tattooing him, she'd remember the way things used to be. So in essence, he guessed he really _had_ gotten a tattoo to impress a pretty girl.

But had she been impressed?

He'd been surprised by how warm her welcome had been; she'd crossed the room to hug him as soon as she'd gotten over her initial shock. As she'd prepared things before actually sticking him with the needle, they'd fallen back into the easy, friendly conversation they'd shared during their best times, catching up a little. Things had gotten a little awkward when he'd pointedly told her he considered them friends and therefore he was interested in her life, but the reserve he'd expected from her hadn't been there.

Then the endorphins from the needle had sent him a little high, and when she'd tried to explain why, she'd mentioned spanking. His inhibitions had been lowered enough by the hormone rush that he'd been unable to resist flirting a little, and she'd responded by asking how Nas was.

How was it possible that she hadn't heard about his break-up? He'd assumed that Patterson would have talked to Jane about him, the same way she talked to him about Jane, but evidently that wasn't true. Had Jane never asked how he was doing? Or had Patterson deliberately kept the information about his break-up from her?

Either way, Jane knew he was single now. And she'd quietly confirmed that there was no one in her life, either.

Part of him knew it was selfish to try to rebuild something with her when he didn't have any intention of moving away from New York. But her studio was named NYO Ink, and she had a tattoo of the New York skyline on one arm and a phoenix being reborn from a duffel bag on the other. It didn't take a psychology degree to figure out that she missed her old life—not her life as Remi, but as Jane Doe, FBI asset.

As the sun drew closer to the horizon and the first tinge of orange hit the clouds, Kurt grabbed his shoes and got to his feet. His hotel was only a couple of blocks away, and he wanted to shower and change before their dinner date.

 _Not a date,_ he reminded himself, as he walked back the way he'd come. _Just old friends, catching up._

And he was taking a cold shower because a warm one would open his pores and affect the ink on his new tattoo. _Sure, Kurt._

It took effort to keep his dressing out of the shower spray, but he managed, emerging from the cubicle shivering, but with something other than Jane on his mind—for a few minutes, anyway.

Everything had changed since Sandstorm had been neutralised. Patterson had moved down to Los Angeles independently of Jane, founding a software company that had produced a hit game app named _Wizardville_ —to which his nephew, Sawyer, was completely addicted. _Wizardville 2_ was highly anticipated and now in its final stages of development, and Patterson was considering putting her company on the stock market, after holding out for a long time.

Reade was a lecturer at Quantico, settling into the academic side of the FBI like he was born to it. Weller missed working with him, but his friend's PTSD had been severe enough to affect his fieldwork, and he had to admit that Reade seemed happier these days. They visited each other now and then, and Reade often directed promising rookie agents his way once they'd completed their training.

Zapata had joined the CIA, working for Jake Keaton, the same man who had tortured Jane for three months. Weller's friendship with her had deteriorated rapidly because of it. "There's more to being a CIA agent than black sites and torture," she'd insisted.

"Yeah? Tell that to Jane," he'd shot back.

They still talked once in a while, but things were strained between them. Reade, on the other hand, had cut her off entirely, disgusted with her lack of morals. Only her friendship with Patterson remained intact.

As for Kurt? Nas had moved into his apartment, and they'd made a go of it for around three years before she'd been offered a job in the British intelligence network. They'd been happy together, but by that point, they'd been treading water, their relationship more a live-in friends-with-benefits deal than anything else.

"In any case," Nas had told him, as they'd talked about breaking up, "I never had your heart, Kurt. Not really. Maybe it's time for you to think about why that is."

He hadn't been able to argue. She'd spent the first few months of their relationship quietly observing the way he interacted with Jane, though they'd never actually discussed it.

Why had he settled for Nas? When they'd started sleeping together, he'd still been angry with and conflicted about Jane, still grieving for Mayfair and unable to put Jane's involvement with her death aside. By the time he and Jane were on more even footing, she'd been tentatively dating a man she'd met while undercover at a charity gala.

Meanwhile, he and Nas were being more open about their relationship around the team, and though Jane had ended up single again after a couple of months, he had been busy battling Matthew Weitz, who was intent on throwing Kurt to the wolves as a terrorist sympathiser in order to impress Congress. Nas had found enough dirt on Weitz to get him to back off, but it had been a stressful time, and he'd had no breathing room to consider whether he should think about ending it with Nas to try something with Jane.

Then they'd had to stop Phase Two, and it was then that Jane had mentioned moving to California. He'd wanted to protest, but he was in a relationship, and cheating wasn't his style. Instead of telling her how he felt about her, he'd rationalised that Jane deserved to build a life for herself, and he'd let her walk away.

It was probably the third-biggest mistake he'd ever made—the first being letting Taylor get killed, and the second being letting his father back into his life.

He'd known Patterson and Jane met regularly for coffee, and so he'd kept tabs on Jane through her once Jane had stopped responding to his messages. When he'd broken up with Nas, Patterson's first response to hearing the news had been, "I know it's probably too soon to ask this, but I'm drunk, so screw it. Are you _finally_ gonna come down here and tell Jane how you feel about her?"

"No," he'd said immediately.

"Chicken," she'd retorted.

"She made it pretty obvious that she wasn't interested in staying in touch, and she's thousands of miles away. Even if she did want to start something, I'm the Deputy Director of the NYO. The job's important to me. I'm not moving to Los Angeles, and Jane's put New York behind her. It just wouldn't work."

"Okay…" Patterson had said, her voice carrying the sing-song tone of someone who clearly disagreed. He'd heard her take another gulp of whatever she was drinking on the other end of the phone connection. "But no one gets a tattoo of the skyline of the place they've put behind them."

Kurt gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out. He didn't look as nervous as he felt, which he was grateful for.

He'd end tonight either on top of the world, or with a broken heart. And if tonight went the way he hoped, he'd worry about tomorrow when he woke up, with Jane in his arms.

* * *

I haven't decided if the next chapter should be Kurt's point of view, or Jane's. Any preference? Let me know what you think of where the team are at these days, too. And any other thoughts you have. :D


	3. Not a Date

**Author's Note:** Jeller go on their first date. But it's not a date. But it is. ;) And there might be a liiiiiittle cliffhanger here. I'm also toying with the idea of really, really putting Jane in control of the situation. But I don't know if the Blindspot fandom can handle that level of kinkiness, so I may save that for a different fic where my intention is clear from the outset, rather than disappointing readers of this one.

* * *

Jane stared at herself in the mirror, hating how self-conscious she felt, and how clueless about what to wear on dates. _It's not a date. Calm down. Just relax._ She and Kurt were just catching up over dinner. It wasn't like he'd made a real move on her. She still didn't know exactly what he was doing in Los Angeles in the first place—surely he hadn't come all the way down here just to see her.

But what if he had? What if he wanted to…

"Ugh." Jane flopped down on her bed, covering her face with her hands. She was overthinking this, she knew she was. His life was there and hers was here. That was all there was to it. But on the other hand, there was a tension between them that put her on edge, in the best possible way.

She was restless, excited, nervous. Her body wanted to press up against his and—

"No," she said aloud to the room. "Just…no."

To rein in her imagination, she distracted herself by calling Patterson. "Guess who I just tattooed."

Patterson gasped. "Weller got a tattoo?!"

"So you _did_ know he was coming."

"He wanted it to be a surprise. What did you tattoo on him? Where?" Patterson demanded.

"A sandstorm coming out of a broken hourglass. Inner forearm."

"Oh, I saw that one on your website! That's perfect for him." Patterson paused, then said, "So how was it seeing him again?"

Jane rolled her eyes at the obvious fishing expedition. "Good. He seems the same as he ever was. A little less stressed than in the old days."

Patterson sighed. "Yeah, he passed on all his stress to me."

"And he's apparently more single," Jane said, a little accusingly. "I could have done with knowing that, so I didn't ask him how Nas was."

Patterson made a non-committal noise, then began speaking in a rush. "I have to get back to coding, but… Jane. You're seeing him again before he goes back to New York, right? Don't do that thing you do."

Jane frowned. "What thing?" _As if I need to feel any more nervous about tonight._

"That thing, where you do the thing…where you don't say what you're thinking or what you actually want, and he doesn't say what _he's_ thinking or what _he_ actually wants, and you're both just dancing around each other forever. Don't do that, okay? I gotta go. Bye."

The line went dead before Jane could respond, and she sighed. "Thanks, Patterson," she muttered to the empty air, and got up to stare at her outfit one more time—black skinny jeans and a fitted maroon V-neck tee. It was about the most colourful item of clothing she owned, and she wasn't sure what had moved her to buy it in the first place, but it was casual enough to not scream 'dressed up for a date' while still being flattering and a little different from her usual black, white, navy and grey shirts and hoodies.

Not for the first time since she'd cut off contact with Zapata, she found herself wishing she could send her former friend a picture of her outfit to ask her opinion of it. Tasha always looked so effortlessly stylish. Jane just didn't have that innate sense of what to wear, or when to wear it.

But Zapata was with the CIA now, working under Keaton, the man whose face she sometimes still saw in her nightmares. Mercifully, the PTSD symptoms had faded to only the occasional bad dream, but she still couldn't forgive Tasha for her thoughtless decision.

Frowning, she picked up one of her darker lipsticks and applied a coat to her lips, then immediately scrubbed it off and reached for her tinted lip gloss instead. Lipstick of any shade would definitely move her look from 'dinner with a friend' to 'let's skip dessert'.

"Screw it," she muttered, after one last glance in the mirror. "I'm ready. And this is not a date."

 _Yeah?_ _Then why are you wearing a proper bra instead of a sports bra? And matching underwear? And why are you tidying away the mess you've made getting ready? Hoping to bring someone home tonight?_

She ignored her snarky inner voice, pulling a strand of hair back into place before picking up her jacket and heading out.

Kurt was leaning against a street lamp near the restaurant entrance when she got there, tapping something into his cell phone. He glanced up when he heard her footsteps, and his eyes lit up in greeting as he pocketed the phone. "Hey."

"Hey." She gave him a quick hug in greeting. "Do anything fun this afternoon?"

Kurt held up his arm for a moment. "Aside from getting a tattoo? Mainly I just walked along the beach. Thought about life."

"Yeah, the sea helps me think, too." She gestured to the restaurant's entrance. "Shall we?"

Once they were seated and had ordered their drinks, Jane glanced at him across the table. "Come to any conclusions? About life, I mean?"

Kurt shrugged. "Not really. I was just thinking about the last five years. Everything changed after we brought down Sandstorm."

"Yeah. It did." Jane focused on her menu, forcing back wistfulness. "You're the only one still at the FBI."

Kurt tapped his menu with a couple of fingers as he considered what to order, then looked up again. "Yeah. That case was hard on everyone, though. I don't blame you all for wanting out."

"You never wanted to leave?" Jane asked softly.

"Honestly? This job drives me crazy sometimes, but I'm good at it, and I make a difference. Even still get to go out in the field once in a while, though Hirst keeps telling me not to."

Imagining how _those_ conversations would have turned out, Jane smiled and closed her menu. "I'm surprised she hasn't given up trying to talk you out of it yet."

"She's persistent, but I'm stubborn."

Jane decided now was a good time to take a sip of her drink rather than agree with his statement. "Is Afreen still in the lab?"

They talked about the NYO—its current state and the old days—until halfway through their meals, when Kurt said, "I know it's been a long time, but how are you coping with everything that happened back then?"

Jane considered her answer for a moment, chewing and swallowing a prawn before saying, "Sometimes I think I see Roman. In a crowd of people, just for a second. Never more than a flash, though. I'm probably imagining it."

Kurt leaned forward, concerned. "Let me know the next time it happens. I can get in touch with LAPD, get them to pull camera footage."

Touched by his reaction, she smiled and reached across the table to where his hand rested, laying her own over it. "Kurt, really, you don't have to worry. Even if he is there, I don't think he plans to hurt me. The first time I thought I saw him was just after I moved here. I doubt he's been watching me for five years just to turn around and attack me."

Kurt squeezed her fingers between his. "Maybe not, but be careful. I know he's your brother, but _you_ know he's dangerous."

She nodded, fighting a wave of sadness as she withdrew her hand again. Of everything that had happened once she'd been told who she really was, she missed her connection with Roman—after she'd given him the ZIP—the most. Even though he'd spent most of their time together in his Zero Division cell, she had fond memories of that time they'd spent together. "I remember."

"Speaking of remembering—how's your memory these days? Asking as a friend, not an agent," he added before she could tell him she'd have brought any leads to him if she'd remembered them.

"Bits and pieces come back here and there. Remi did some…pretty brutal things. But it's not all bad. I remembered a few pieces of my childhood, from before the orphanage. Some stuff from military training, while I was away from Shepherd." None of the positive memories she'd gotten back were especially clear, but they were all parts to the puzzle of her past.

Kurt nodded. "If you need to talk about any of it…"

"Honestly? I just want to forget Remi ever existed." She didn't want to open up to him, be that vulnerable, needy Jane again. It was so easy to let him shoulder part of her burden, and he didn't have any obligation to, not anymore.

"That why you removed the tattoos?" he asked, his face unreadable.

Jane paused, watching his expression for a clue to what he was feeling. Getting nowhere, she answered, "Mostly, yeah. It wasn't like I chose them in the first place."

He inclined his head, conceding the point, and they were quiet for a few seconds, focused on their food. Not wanting to stay on this subject—knowing he would want to know the other reason she'd removed the tattoos if he thought about it for much longer—she asked how Sarah and Sawyer were doing, and the conversation lightened again.

The subtle charge between them never faded, and the atmosphere of their meal was never quite casual enough for just dinner between friends. At one point, his foot brushed hers under the table, and he left it there, the subtle contact making her heart race.

"I have to ask," Kurt said, over dessert. "How did you not hear that Nas and I had broken up at the time? Patterson mentions you to me when we talk, all the time. Didn't she tell you?"

Jane really didn't want to go into why she hadn't known, so she seized on the part of his statement that was safer. "Patterson's been gossiping about me? What did she tell you?"

Kurt grinned. "Don't worry. Nothing you wouldn't tell me yourself." She could tell something else was coming, and braced herself, even before he added, "Except she did mention something about a bar fight a year or so ago…"

"Oh, umm…" She tucked her hair behind her ear, a little embarrassed. "Yeah. That wasn't as big a deal as she probably made it sound."

"Yeah? Let's hear your side of it, then." His eyes shone with amusement.

For the rest of their meal, Jane had to explain how two biker gangs had decided they wanted her to ink their members' tattoos, and how the leaders of both had decided she should only provide that service to their gang, and not their rival. The leaders had ended up in a knock-down, drag-out fight in the middle of the bar, and Jane had taken them both down before coldly informing them that she wouldn't be tattooing members of either gang.

Kurt was laughing as the waitress brought over their bill for the meal. They both reached for it at the same time, and ended up entwining their fingers instead of picking it up.

"This is the part where you insist you're gonna pay for the meal, right?" Jane said, unable to keep herself from smiling.

"And the part where you remind me it's the twenty-first century, and you can pay for the whole thing, yours and mine." He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, sending a tingle through her skin.

"We should probably just agree to split it and get it over with," Jane recommended.

"Yeah, okay." It took them both a couple of heartbeats to withdraw their hands, and Jane gazed out of the window for a moment, needing to collect herself.

By the time she focused on Kurt again, he was handing his credit card to the waitress, an innocent look on his face.

"Kurt…" Her voice emerged a resigned sigh, but she didn't bother to argue. They'd probably do that later anyway, if he kept digging into why she'd let their friendship lapse. She might as well let him win this one.

"Jane." He accepted his card back from the waitress and thanked her, then nodded towards the door. "Wanna go for a walk?"

* * *

The meal had mostly been relaxed, the undercurrent of electricity between them staying unacknowledged, even when she'd touched his hand across the table for a moment. A couple of times, she'd dodged his questions—there was something she was avoiding discussing with him, and he _would_ get it out of her—but for the rest of the meal, the conversation between them was natural, easy. The connection they'd always shared was still the same.

His power play for paying the bill was as much out of concern for her financial situation as it was just pure stubbornness. The most intriguing part of their standoff was the flash of heat in her eyes while he'd rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. It was the first time he was completely sure that his suspicions were right, and she did still feel the same as he did.

Once they got outside, Jane hesitated. "I have a better idea than walking—or at least, one slightly more alcoholic."

He turned to face her, curious. "Go ahead."

"I think I might have"—she calculated for a moment—"three Pennsylvania beers left in my fridge. So if you want to come over, I can offer you one and a half."

Kurt tried to play it cool. "If you're sure you're okay sharing your last three beers…"

She grinned and indicated the crosswalk up the street. "I think I can manage. If I'm still thirsty after that, there's always bourbon."

As they walked, he let his hand brush hers, an invitation she could ignore or accept. Jane laced her fingers through his, and he fought a wave of fierce longing. They needed to have a conversation tonight, but it could wait until they were back at her place. No matter how much the anticipation was killing him.

"Good taste in beer," he commented, to fill the silence.

Jane gave a soft laugh. "Thanks. Someone converted me, about…six and a half years ago now?"

"Time flies."

"Yeah," she agreed, a little sadly.

 _I should have spent all of that time with you._

Jane's place wasn't far—a small but cosy apartment around five minutes' walk from her studio. The moment he stepped inside, he noticed one wall of her living room was a very similar shade of purple to the one at her old safehouse. Yet another indication that she missed the way things used to be, though it was subtle.

Once she'd clinked her beer bottle against his and settled down next to him on the couch—close, but not touching him—Kurt took a swallow of the familiar beer, then turned to Jane. "I don't want to ruin a fun evening, but there's something I have to ask you."

As though she'd been expecting this, she took a deep breath in, let it out slowly. "You really have to?"

Part of him wanted to just lean over and kiss her. Screw the conversation, screw everything until they'd had their fill of each other. But he needed to know what had been going on in her mind all this time.

"I need to understand."

Jane nodded, giving him a quick glance, then dropping her gaze again.

"You were a huge part of my life for nearly two years, but then you moved down here. Gradually stopped talking to me. The last time you contacted me was over three years ago. I know you left our group text when Tasha told us about the CIA, but I get that. What I don't get is that you went quiet on _me_. You still talk to Reade and Patterson all the time, though apparently not about me, or you'd have known about Nas moving to the UK. So here's my question, Jane. What did I do?"

Jane leaned back against the cushions, shaking her head. "Nothing, Kurt. You did nothing."

He was irritated, about to insist that she give him a real answer, but then his mind shifted her words into a different context. Instead of trying to brush him off, she was answering his question honestly. He hadn't done anything, and that was the problem.

As soon as that clicked into place, he saw everything clearly. "Jane…"

Her jaw was set, her shoulders high, and she wouldn't look at him. He sensed her hurt, and deep in his chest, his heart ached.

His first instinct was to ask her why she hadn't said anything to him. Why she'd moved thousands of miles away and then gradually faded him out of her life altogether. But he swallowed the words. In her position, he might have done the exact same thing.

"I was wrong."

She shot him a brief, startled look before avoiding his eyes once more.

He took another sip of beer, building his courage, and said, "We almost had something, but things kept getting in the way. Mayfair's death and Taylor's body. The black site. Shepherd. You didn't know where you stood with me, and by the time we were friends again, I was with Nas. So you thought I'd put you behind me, and when it hurt too much to see me with her, you moved here. But even then it didn't stop hurting. You had to stop talking to me—stop thinking about me—to give yourself time to heal. Am I close?"

Jane gave a quick nod, tension still radiating from her. She didn't look at him again.

Guilt overwhelmed him at her confirmation of his theory. Tears stung his eyes for a moment, and he fought them back. "Jane. If I could go back…" He shook his head, then tried to put into words what he'd worked out on the beach. How he'd settled with Nas because he'd been so conflicted about how he'd felt about Jane. How first Oliver Kind, then his preoccupation with Weitz's threats, then Shepherd had gotten in the way of him taking a hard, long look at himself and figuring out what he wanted.

"And then you said you wanted to move here, and I didn't want to stand in the way of your happiness. I wanted you to have the life that you chose, and for you to be happy in it. I just didn't put together that you…"

Jane had her eyes closed, listening to his words. He couldn't figure out if she understood where he was coming from, so he laid it out, plain and simple, setting aside his fears and embracing honesty and vulnerability. "I fucked up, Jane. I should never have been with Nas to begin with. I used my relationship with her as a shield because I was angry and confused about what you wanted, and…who you really were. But I was in love with you long before I met Nas. And you're right; I should have told you that before you left. But I did nothing, and I lost you."

 _And now I'm afraid that it's too late to fix things._


	4. Postponing Decisions

**Author's Note:** Here be smut. You have been warned! I did hold off on the kink, might put some light stuff in later, but I'll probably just write a kinky one-shot or something with the more intense stuff.

* * *

Jane's mind and heart raced, but she couldn't make sense of everything that was going through her mind. The truth was out, now. He knew everything. He'd said he _loved_ her. That was more than she'd ever hoped for, and yet…

"Why are you here in LA, Kurt?" she asked. "You've been single for two years, so why now? What's changed?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulders sag a little, and part of her felt bad. She'd always imagined that if Kurt declared his love for her, she'd throw herself into his arms and kiss him and never let him go. But there were things to consider now.

She had a life here. Friends. A business. Okay, not _many_ friends, and her business was still a fledgling, but now that he'd decided he wanted her, was he going to try to uproot her and move her back to New York?

Kurt answered slowly. "After you stopped talking to me, I'd mostly put you out of my mind. Unless Patterson or Reade mentioned how you were doing, I…tried not to think about you. But then Patterson told me to look up your website, for your studio. And for the first time in five years, I saw a picture of you."

Jane looked over at him, unable to help but comment. "Not a great photo, but it was better than the others my assistant took that day."

"No," he said, meeting her eyes with a sincerity that flustered her. "It's beautiful. _You're_ beautiful. And that picture made me remember…everything. Every moment I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we almost got somewhere, but then we didn't. And those moments when…we did."

Jane drank some more of her beer, his words provoking her own memory. _Her, waiting outside his apartment block to kiss him. Him, stepping in close in the locker room, telling her there was a bright side to Pellington barring her from the FBI before kissing her. His hands on her face. Her lips on his. Their breaths mingling, shaking with the intensity of their emotions._

"You haven't answered my question," she said, her voice too husky. "Why are you here?"

"To put an end to this, one way or another. This waiting, this…wanting." He took her hand gently, held it between both of his. "I've said enough. I've been the one getting what I thought I wanted, while you left New York to try to leave the pain behind. What happens next is your call, Jane. You can throw me out in the street. You can use me for a night and then tell me to get out of your life. Or we can see where this goes, together."

Jane had to remember to breathe, the thought of sleeping with him taking root in her mind yet again. His hands around hers were warm, tempting. She had to focus to keep her mind from dropping into the gutter.

"But you won't leave New York," she said, needing to hear him say it.

Kurt didn't need to answer for her to know his response. It was there in the disappointment in his eyes. Suddenly, she couldn't bear to hear him confirm it.

She drained her beer bottle and slammed it down on the table, then looked up into his face. "I don't want to make any decisions tonight."

He nodded and stood up. "I understand. I'll leave you to think about it. I'm… I'm sorry I dropped all this on you."

He got one step towards the door before she was on her feet, knowing she should take the time to process the new information, but not caring. "No."

Kurt stopped, turned, waited. His confusion and his hurt were hard to bear, but she made herself speak instead of act.

"I don't want to think, Kurt. I don't want to have a complicated conversation. I just…want to take every moment as it comes, all right?"

He swallowed hard. Nodded.

Jane grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. He was already wrapping his arms around her waist as she kissed him, hard but slow, her hand sliding up his stubbled jaw to the back of his neck.

Kurt let her lead, holding her close and meeting every one of her kisses with equal intensity. God, she'd missed this, missed _him_. His scent made her lightheaded with need; the faint taste of beer on his lips was nothing compared to the familiarity of his kiss. She needed to pull back, assess the situation, but she couldn't bear to, remembering the other instances that they'd kissed, the circumstances that had gotten in the way after each time.

Finally, she made herself break away, berating herself for her fear. This was Los Angeles. They weren't working any cases, weren't about to be interrupted by the team or captured by the CIA. They had time. Even if that time was just tonight.

They were both breathing hard, searching each other's faces. Kurt's expression was guarded, but she caught sight of his hope, his pain, his desire before she pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. "I missed kissing you," she admitted softly.

"Then kiss me again."

She couldn't help but smile, opening her eyes to watch his reaction as she spoke. "I hope kissing isn't all you're expecting. I didn't wear my best underwear tonight because it's comfortable."

His eyes widened just a little, her bold statement taking him by surprise, the need in his face intensifying and wiping out the traces of hurt. "Jane…"

She kissed him again, and for the first time he pressed his hips to hers, letting her feel his arousal. Jane hummed her approval against his lips, standing on tiptoe to rub against him, right where she wanted him. He grabbed her ass to steady her, letting her move as she pleased.

Her mind skipping ahead, Jane broke the kiss with a curse. "I really hope you have condoms, because mine are probably a year out of date by now."

Kurt smiled. "Think four will be enough for tonight?"

Jane pretended to consider, her heart pounding with anticipation. "I guess we'll find out." Before he could respond, she stepped out of his arms and headed for her bedroom door, pulling her shirt over her head.

He caught her before she reached the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and trailing hungry kisses over the bird tattoo on her neck. Jane melted back against him, rubbing her ass against his hard cock. He responded by stroking over her breasts through her bra, then pulling down the cups to roll her nipples between his fingers. She arched her back, unbuttoning her jeans and wishing they were loose enough for gravity to carry them the rest of the way to the floor.

She got them down to the tops of her thighs before he slipped his hand down over her underwear, cupping her mound in his palm, his other hand still teasing one of her nipples. Jane sighed as she ground against his touch, knowing he could feel the fabric between them was already soaked by her need for him. He nipped her earlobe, kissed her neck, let her rub shamelessly against his hand in front and his cock behind her.

Unable to bear not being able to kiss him, she spun around again, capturing his lips desperately, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Kurt broke the kiss only to pull the garment up over his head, bringing his lips back to hers the instant he could. Jane tangled her fingers in his chest hair, tugging very lightly and making him catch his breath before she dipped her head, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to one of his nipples, flicking her tongue against it.

Kurt's voice was breathless, a little surprised. "You're the first woman I've been with who's ever done that."

"Guess you've been picking the wrong women." She raised her head to gaze up at him. "Or doesn't it do anything for you?"

"Everything you're doing works for me." His return gaze was intense, hungry. "Do whatever you want."

"Ditto," she whispered, and their lips crashed together again, her fingers lightly pinching the nipple she hadn't yet tasted.

Somehow, she ended up on the bed, and he helped her wriggle out of the skinny jeans, leaving her in her best underwear, waiting for his verdict. Standing at the end of the bed, he openly appraised her body, taking in all the new tattoos, all the spots where the laser had faded them enough for future cover-ups. "You're stunning."

A little self-conscious, she shrugged and smiled. "I'm a work in progress."

She let herself fall onto her back and reached out for him. Kurt stripped down to his boxer briefs before joining her, and she didn't try to hide her appreciative glance as he stretched out beside her on his side.

She'd expected him to try to get somewhere, to get her off so that _he_ could get off, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, slow and provocative, his tongue barely flirting with hers before retreating, then returning. Jane found herself relaxing, enjoying his technique, the warm slide of his hand over the small of her back making her sigh into his mouth. When he unsnapped her bra, she pushed the straps down her arms distractedly, still kissing him, not jumping ahead, not yet.

He pulled back, stroked his fingers down the side of her face. "You good?"

"You slowed down. Why?" she asked.

"Too slow?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No. Yes." She shrugged. "I don't know. I want more, but I want this, too."

He smiled, like he understood exactly what she meant. "Then we do this until you can't stand it anymore."

More kisses, sweet and longing, hungry but restrained. He trailed his fingertips up and down her spine, making her shiver. She shifted closer, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hand stroking the nape of his neck, one of his thighs slipping between hers. She couldn't help but tilt her hips, rubbing her clit against his leg, and his lips curved a little against hers as she gave a light gasp.

Her body took on a will of its own as he shifted her more securely against him, and the delicious tension of an impending climax began to build. She rode his leg as their kisses became shorter, harder, her breath shaking as her muscles coiled gradually tighter.

Kurt reached down between them, and she almost protested, but he only disrupted her rhythm for a second, pulling her underwear to one side before pressing his thigh back into place against her.

She made a small, appreciative noise against his lips as her own wetness covered his skin, making it easier for her quick, urgent movements to hit the perfect spot each time. Almost at the edge, she forgot to kiss him and just moved, seeking that last final push over the edge.

Kurt murmured soft encouragement against her ear, and she was done for, clutching him tightly as she ground hard against his leg, a husky cry of relief tearing from her throat. As she trembled through waves of aftershocks, he found her lips again.

"Mmmm…" She opened his eyes to find him watching her, and the expression on his face... She could only describe it as love. Or maybe she'd just fucked all the sense out of herself against his leg. "Kurt…"

"Mind if I take over for a little while?"

"You always did like being in control," she murmured, letting him roll her onto her back.

He pulled off her underwear before kneeling between her legs. "As I remember, I used to have to fight you for it."

Jane shivered as he trailed his lips over her inner thigh, first one leg, then the other. Already, she was craving her next orgasm. "I'm strategising."

He gave her a mischievous look. "Don't let me distract you."

Then he was tasting her for the first time, unhurried and confident, his tongue sending a shiver through her still-sensitive body. She let her eyes drift closed, her head fall back, as he set about learning exactly what made her sigh, what made her arch with pleasure, and what made her—

"Ah— _there_!" She grabbed a fistful of the bedcovers reflexively as he found the perfect spot to drive her crazy, if he'd only continue for a while. For a moment, she thought he'd lost it, but then he returned, learning fast, his stubble enticingly scratchy against her thighs as he pressed his mouth tight against her.

And he was nothing if not persistent.

The orgasm curled her toes, shook her thighs, tore a sharp cry from her lungs with every cresting pulse until every bit of tension had been sapped from her muscles, and she lounged on the mattress, her skin so sensitive to the small currents in the air that it almost tingled.

Kurt returned to her side, and she wrapped her arms around him with a welcoming kiss, tasting herself on his lips. "Good distraction."

"Not quite up to taking control yet?" he teased. "Want me to leave you to sleep?"

"Oh, it's _on_." Her limbs were still shaky, but she still easily managed to straddle him, pinning his wrists to the bed on either side of his head.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her. "Why does this not surprise me?"

"Don't suppose you happened to bring your cuffs?" She felt his cock jump in response to her words, and grinned. "Maybe I wasn't far off with the spanking thing."

He twisted out of her grip and rolled them over, pinning her this time. "Veto on the kink for tonight. Not that I'm not willing to try, but for now…"

"Just us," she agreed, and he gave her a soft kiss in response.

"You know how many times I've replayed that night in my head?"

She reached down to slip her hand into his underwear, her arousal beginning to build again at his obvious need for her.

"Maybe as many as I have," she said, stroking upward slowly and watching him struggle not to just pin her down and take what he wanted.

He closed his eyes, sighing her name as she continued to provocatively stroke him, too slow to get him anywhere. In that moment, she knew she couldn't keep him waiting any longer, no matter how long he would have let her torment him.

She released his cock to tug at his underwear. "I want you, Kurt..."

Kurt gave her a brief, heated kiss, then sat up, reaching for a condom. As he put it on, Jane sat behind him, leaving a line of kisses from one of his shoulders, across the back of his neck, to the other shoulder. The goosebumps that rose on his skin in response to her touch made her smile.

He pulled her into his lap, and she didn't waste any more time, pressing her forehead against his and watching his face as she took him inside her for the first time.

"Jane… God, Jane…" Kurt never took his eyes off her, letting her see exactly what he was feeling as she shifted a little, then took him even deeper. His desire was obvious, but the tender undercurrent was unmistakable.

No one made her feel the way Kurt did—as though the universe could end around them, and he just wouldn't notice, because she was more important. The intense connection between them was even stronger now they were physically joined, and she closed her eyes, overwhelmed, as she began to rise and fall slowly in his lap.

Kurt nipped the sensitive skin between her neck and her shoulder between his teeth, then soothed it with a kiss. Jane couldn't help but increase her pace, her pulse spiking as he met her movements with thrusts up into her, driving them both towards an inevitable conclusion.

She didn't care if she finished or not this time. All she wanted was to make him lose all control. But she knew he wouldn't let himself come without taking care of her first, so she slipped her hand down between them to find her clit.

Kurt gave a soft growl of approval, his lips finding hers for a moment before he lay back, so he could drive harder into her from below. Jane rode him hard, the instinctive coordination of their movements as much of a turn-on to her as her fingers against her clit.

Then she figured out just the right way to tilt her hips each time she took him in, and within a few of his powerful thrusts, she was done, falling forward onto her hands as each wave of pleasure washed through her system. Hazily, she caught a glimpse of Kurt's grin before he intensified his movements, seeking his own climax. Seconds later, he breathed a curse as he finished, holding her tightly as he drove as deep as he could get.

Jane tried to regain her breath, her mind finally catching up with her body. She and Kurt Weller had just had incredible sex, and now she had no clue how to react.

He pressed his lips against her temple,the simple, affectionate gesture making her smile. She raised her head to look down at him, wanting to get an idea of what he was thinking.

Kurt's expression was soft, satisfied, with no trace of regret, but a little apprehension that matched her own feelings. He brushed her hair back from her face, as though he was trying to read her, too. Whatever conclusion he came to, it was enough to ease his mind, and he lifted his head to kiss her.

The silence between them was comfortable rather than awkward as Jane rolled off him, and Kurt dealt with the condom while Jane pulled back the bedcovers, knowing she'd start to feel chilly in a few minutes. Kurt got into bed beside her, and she relaxed into his embrace with a smile.

After a while, she said softly, "I guess one of us has to say something sooner or later."

Kurt stroked her hair. "We've been saying things this whole time. Just not with words."

Jane considered the way they were positioned—facing each other, holding each other, brushing light, repetitive touches against each other's skin. "I guess so," she said, smiling slightly.

"I do have to ask, though. How did I do, compared to the fantasy version of me in your head?"

Jane's heart squeezed at the tiny hint of insecurity in his voice. "Trust me. You have nothing to worry about there." After a moment, she frowned. "Do I?"

He tilted up her head to look into her face. "Jane... I can't even believe that this is real. That we finally did this. I can't even put into words how much you shouldn't be worried."

She kissed him, a little overwhelmed by the way he was looking at her. It reminded her of the way he'd been after Patterson had mistakenly confirmed that she was Taylor Shaw—like she was everything to him. But this time she didn't have to fit into the shoes of the person he remembered. He knew her better than anyone else, the way she really was. That made it easier to bear, even as she knew she now had a very difficult decision to make.

 _Not tonight. Tonight is just us._


	5. Guiding Light

**Author's Note:** Drawing towards the end of this one now. :) Probably two chapters to go. I'll try not to fill them allll with sex.

* * *

Jane was asleep in his arms, naked and relaxed against him, and Kurt would have thought he'd never been happier—if not for the fact that in just two days, he'd be leaving Los Angeles to return to New York.

How was he going to kiss Jane goodbye, knowing it would be the final time, then get on a plane to continue his life, nearly two and a half thousand miles from her?

He loved New York. The fast pace, the skyline, the way there was always something going on… He spent most of his life at work, but the job was rewarding in a way he doubted most people ever felt about their vocation. If he'd had the choice after Mayfair's death, he never would have stepped up to fill her shoes, but now he was here, as much as he hated the political side of things, he took satisfaction from knowing that he could stop the NYO from going down the path of the CIA. And he knew Mayfair would approve.

But Jane was here.

He pressed his nose against her hair, soaking in every bit of her presence: her scent, her warmth against him, the curve of her cheekbone and the way her bird tattoo—the only original one she seemed to have kept intact—looked ready to fly from her skin into the room. He could still taste her on his lips. He knew the way she sounded as pleasure made her tremble from the inside out. He'd never forget the way it felt to bury his cock deep inside her as she came around him.

But there was so much more he loved about Jane than just sex. She was the perfect juxtaposition of toughness and vulnerability, with resourcefulness and determination that never failed to impress him. And she cared about people, whether they were strangers in need or beloved friends. Injustice enraged her as much as it did him. Sometimes it was difficult to remember her confidence when it came to personal matters was much lower than her overall attitude suggested. He certainly hadn't taken it into account when it came to letting her move away unchallenged, all those years ago.

No one else in the world made him feel the way Jane did. He sensed, deep down in his soul, that if soulmates existed, Jane was his. And though she hadn't returned his confession of love earlier, he was almost certain she felt just as strongly about him.

Almost.

He closed his eyes, trying not to dwell on the future while she was in his arms, recovering from the most emotionally resonant sex he'd ever experienced. God, he loved her so much. How could he walk away from this? Were his attachments to a job and a city anywhere near what he felt for Jane?

She murmured something in her sleep and snuggled closer, and as her breath tickled his neck with every exhalation, he knew he couldn't give her up.

If she didn't throw him out in the morning—and he didn't think she would—he'd tell her he was willing to move to California to be with her. She was more important to him than anything. If she would give him a chance, he'd do anything to keep her.

* * *

When Jane woke to the realisation that someone was holding her in her sleep, her first reaction was a flash of dismay. Had she had another drunken one-night stand with a man she had no intention of keeping around past breakfast time? She'd sworn never again, after the last guy had raged and called her an unfeeling slut when she'd told him she wasn't interested in continuing their acquaintance, but alcohol and sexual frustration weren't exactly compatible with logic.

Then she breathed in, and everything came rushing back as Kurt's familiar scent registered. And the unmistakable smell of sex.

 _Kurt Weller is in my bed. Is this some kind of alternate universe?_

He was spooned up against her back, and by the slow, even breaths he was taking, she could tell he was asleep. She didn't want to wake him if he needed to rest, but shifted slightly to see if she could easily turn over to watch him.

Kurt stirred, then yawned against her shoulder, and Jane couldn't help but smile. _Of course he'd wake up. He's Kurt. He's like my own personal guard dog sometimes._

"Sorry," she said quietly, turning over the rest of the way to face him. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

He smiled, opening one eye. "Disturb me whenever you like."

Jane kissed him, still half asleep herself. Warm, slow, sleepy kisses under the covers with Kurt—she could get used to this kind of thing.

Then she remembered, and pulled back with a sigh.

Kurt stroked his hand down her arm. "You okay?"

She tried a smile. "Yeah. Just…thinking."

A flash of understanding crossed his face. "Wasn't I supposed to be keeping you from thinking tonight?"

Before she could reply, he turned over and leaned out of the bed, then slid whatever was in his hand under the pillow—the rest of his condoms, she suspected. The image of him driving inside her again derailed her previous train of thought.

"Kurt—"

He kissed her with enough fire to chase the remnants of sleep from the corners of her brain, drawing her tightly against him. Jane drew back, breathless, to find him considering her with obvious lust. "What are you planning?"

"Right now, it would probably be quicker to tell you what I'm _not_ planning." He gave her a quick, mischievous grin before rolling her onto her front. Leaning over her, he trailed kisses over her upper back, where her lighthouse tattoo now covered the last traces of his name inked into her skin. Jane closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch, her heartbeat quickening as he stroked his hand down her spine, past her tailbone and over her ass. When he dipped his fingers between her thighs, she gave a soft moan to spur him on.

"The lighthouse is beautiful." There was a wistful note in his voice that tugged at her emotions, even as he didn't stop teasing her. He kissed the newer tattoo again, sliding a finger carefully into her.

Jane knew she shouldn't say it, but she couldn't help herself. The idea that he might think she had erased his name because he was no longer important to her was unbearable. "The lighthouse is you."

His hand faltered for a second, but then he added a second finger to her depths, continuing to pleasure her as she arched and rubbed her clit against the bed. "Jane…"

She gasped and clutched the pillow, tilting her hips against every thrust of his fingers. "You… You're the light that guides me. When I can't see the way forward, I think of you."

Her face was turned from him, and she'd have to disrupt her rhythm to look at him right now, but she sensed his surprise. He trailed kisses over her shoulders, nuzzled her neck, kissed the spot right below her ear that made her shiver. His voice was low and heartfelt as he told her, "I love you so much."

Jane came with a half-sob, both hands tearing at the pillow as the climax shuddered through her. As she tried to re-orient herself, she heard the extremely welcome sound of a condom wrapper tearing, then Kurt was holding her close again, his lips on the back of her neck as he turned her onto her side and slid into her from behind.

This time it was quick, dirty; her foot hooked behind his thigh to keep her legs apart as he slammed into her. A second orgasm hit her only a minute after the first, his perfect angle triggering the tingling, clenching response as she gasped his name. He wasted no time after that, his movements urgent jolts as he followed her over the edge.

Afterwards, once he'd dealt with the condom, he traced the outline of the lighthouse on her back with his finger. She sensed his silent wonder that she'd remove his name, but replace it with something she associated with him anyway. As soon as she got back enough strength in her limbs to move, she turned over to face him.

"Jane…" He shook his head. "I don't know what to say."

 _It's pretty obvious by now. No point in holding it back any longer._ Then why was she still so nervous about saying it? "I love you."

His expression didn't change much—just the hint of a smile curving his lips—but his eyes…they communicated everything his face didn't. Joy, love, relief… Then he kissed her as though he was claiming her, almost territorial as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips, between kisses. "God, I love you."

How was she supposed to let this man walk out of her life again? Jane buried her face in his chest, wishing the moment wasn't so bittersweet. Now she had to choose between the man who felt like home to her, and the home she'd built for herself here. The idea of abandoning her new studio saddened her, but if she went back to New York, maybe she could go back to the Bureau, make a difference in people's lives again. Being a tattoo artist had been something she'd fallen into, never her true passion.

And she'd be with Kurt. Really with him, the way she'd always dreamed.

But she'd be giving up her proximity to Patterson, the few new friendships she'd cultivated over the past five years, the California sun and beaches…

When he tilted up her chin to look into her eyes, he immediately saw the tears gathering in them. "Jane…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm happy, I really am. I just…don't want to lose this."

He kissed her forehead gently. "You don't have to. If you really want to stay here, I'll see if I can transfer somewhere nearby. You're more important to me than anything else."

Jane stared at him, completely taken aback. She'd assumed the NYO was so important to him that everything else—even her—was secondary, but here he was, offering to change his entire life for her. Putting her, and what she wanted, first. Could she really let him do that? "Kurt…"

"We don't have to decide now. But whatever happens, we'll be together. That's the only thing I want right now." The look on his face was intense, sincere, and sexy as hell without meaning to be.

She shouldn't be thinking about sex again already, especially not when such an important decision lay before them, but she just couldn't help herself.

"There's something else I want," she told him, and crushed her lips against his as she pulled him on top of her.


	6. Choosing a Path

**Author's Note:** One more chapter after this. :) I've somehow managed to make them take a break from sex for just a little while, but only because there's serious business to discuss. Oh, and for those of you who were asking when I'm going back to _Torture Without You_ , the answer is: for NaNoWriMo (National Novel-Writing Month), which is November! So I'm going to be planning during the rest of this month (as well as writing other fics) and then focusing on nothing but TWY until I hopefully get it finished sometime in November. That's the plan, at least.

* * *

"Hmmm… There's something different about you two. Did you do something with your hair? Oh, wait, no—you both actually look happy for once." Patterson stood up to give first Jane, then Kurt a hug. "Weller, let me see your tattoo."

As they all sat down in the café where Jane and Patterson often met up for lunch, Kurt held out his arm to show her Jane's handiwork—he'd removed the dressing that morning. "You ever gonna start calling me Kurt? I'm not your boss anymore."

"And don't I know it," Patterson said, rolling her eyes. "Being my own boss is hella stressful. And making everyone _else_ work overtime is even _more_ stressful. I almost cancelled today so I could work through my lunch hour, but then Jane mentioned she'd tattooed you and I _had_ to see."

"So is that a no?" Kurt grinned and checked out the café's menu. Beside him, Jane hooked her foot around his, entwining their legs under the table.

"Old habits die hard," Patterson said. "And if I started calling you by _your_ first name, you might start calling me by mine. And we all know _that's_ not cool."

After they'd all figured out what they were eating and placed their orders, Patterson leaned back in her seat, laughing a little. "Jane, the tattoo so does _not_ cover up the hickey."

Jane rubbed her neck, trying not to smile and failing miserably. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, you guys. I've been spectating and counselling this thing between you two for seven years. At least do me the courtesy of admitting that you're finally together."

Unable to stop himself, Kurt leaned in and kissed Jane gently. She smiled up at him, softness in her eyes.

"Okay, that's as far as I wanna see you go." Patterson rolled her eyes, then smiled. "But seriously? Congratulations. I'm really happy for you both."

"Thanks," Jane said, picking up her coffee cup. "We don't know what's gonna happen yet. Who's moving where. But you're gonna have time between _Wizardville 2_ and _Wizardville 3_ , right? Whatever happens, you should come and hang out with us for a while."

Patterson shuddered. "Don't even say ' _Wizardville 3'_. I don't even want to think about that. I just need to get _2_ out the door on Friday, and then my life can resume for more than thirty seconds."

"You don't ever miss working for me?" Kurt asked. Afreen and Stuart were excellent at their jobs, but no one would ever hold a candle to Patterson.

"You ask me that every time you see me." Patterson shook her head. "And the answer is always the same. Yes, and no."

"Just as long as you know you're always welcome while I'm deputy director," Kurt said. "And I'm pretty sure anyone who got the job after me would take you on, too."

"Thank you." Patterson looked touched and uncomfortable all at once. Five years or more since she'd seen Borden blow himself up, and he suspected she still had unresolved issues about that time period in her life. She never wanted to talk about it, though.

"I want to hear about _your_ love life," Jane said, as the waitress brought their food over. "I know you've been busy, but weren't you thinking about setting up an online dating profile?"

Patterson shot her a pointed look. "The way I remember it, I said I'd do it if you did it, and then you never did it."

Kurt tried not to get possessive at the thought of Jane meeting guys off the internet for dates. Not that she had—but the idea annoyed him anyway.

"You know what happened the last time I…" Jane glanced sideways at Kurt, then ended with, "Never mind."

"What?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"You kinda have to tell him now." Patterson took a huge bite of her sandwich, looking entertained.

Jane sighed and looked over at him. "About four years ago, I got extremely wasted and dragged a guy home with me. He kind of…got attached and didn't want to leave the next day, so I, um, put him in an arm-lock and kicked him out by force." Before Kurt could demand more details to run a full investigation on the guy, she added, "I was completely safe. I think he might actually have cried. And I haven't seen him since, so…"

"I hate to admit it, but I actually feel a little sorry for the guy," Kurt said, reminding himself that Jane's self-defence skills were off the charts, and that he should probably relax his fists a little.

"Breathe, Weller, breathe," Patterson stage-whispered.

"You talked to Reade lately?" Jane asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet this month," Patterson said. "But you can bet I'm gonna be texting him on the way back to work…"

Kurt and Jane exchanged a long-suffering glance. "Everyone we've ever met is gonna know about this before we tell them," Kurt murmured.

"Hey, it'll save us some time." Jane shrugged and stole a fry from his plate.

* * *

After lunch, as Patterson went back to debugging hell, Kurt and Jane decided to walk along the shoreline for a while. Barefoot, they walked half a mile or so before turning back, hand in hand the whole way.

"I'm surprised you didn't suggest jogging instead of walking," Kurt said, as they skirted the ruins of a child's abandoned sand castle.

Jane shrugged. "Most mornings I still jog before work, or hit the gym. Today I'm feeling pretty lazy, though. I may need to go back to bed when we get to my place."

"Hmm… I guess it'd be rude to let you go to bed all by yourself." Kurt was watching the horizon, but the tiny smile at the edges of his lips betrayed his intentions.

Jane laughed and leaned in to him, kissing his jaw. He dropped his shoes on the sand and scooped her into his arms, and she let her own shoes fall as she wrapped her legs around his waist and gave him a long, lingering kiss on the lips.

Noticing an evil look in his eye as she broke off, she wriggled, trying to get him to put her down. "Don't you dare, Kurt Weller!"

"What?" He took one step towards the sea.

"Water is _not_ good for your tattoo right now, so unless you want to spend another hour getting it touched up…"

Kurt considered her for a moment, as though trying to decide whether she was bluffing. Then he laughed, letting her slide back down his body onto her feet. "Lucky escape."

"Come on. You can't think of a better way to get me wet than to throw me in the sea?" she murmured in his ear, then ducked out of his embrace, grabbed her shoes and began to run back along the beach.

By the time he caught up with her, they were almost back amongst the crowd of tourists, and they had to hold themselves in check. Reaching the sidewalk again, they donned their shoes and headed in the general direction of Jane's apartment.

"I can't believe you came down here to tell me how you feel, and you only took a long weekend off work." Jane kissed his shoulder through his shirt as they walked, softening her statement.

"Honestly? I didn't think I'd need any more time. I thought I'd walk in, things would be awkward, there was a fifty percent chance you'd tell me to get out and never come back…" Kurt sighed. "I didn't for one second expect you to hug me the moment you saw me. I figured you'd pretty much have put me behind you by now."

"I tried," Jane admitted. "I asked Patterson and Reade not to mention you—which is why I didn't know about Nas—and I got my tattoos removed, and I tried to move forward. In some areas of my life, I was more successful than others."

"I wish we could go back." Kurt squeezed her hand.

"Maybe we needed to do what we did." Jane shrugged. "After what happened with Shepherd and Roman, I…wasn't great company for a while. Shepherd was on the FBI's Most Wanted list, but she was still my mother. I had to deal with what was happening to her. And Roman? Even now, it hurts me to think of him out there on his own."

"I know." Kurt slid his arm around her waist, and she wrapped an arm around him in return as they slowed their pace a little. "I wish I'd been there for you, when you were going through that."

Another man might have said it and not meant it. Not Kurt; he was completely focused on her, sympathy in his eyes.

She shook her head, smiling sadly. "It's not your fault. I pushed you away and then moved a couple of thousand miles southwest. And maybe if we had been together at that point, what I was going through might have broken us up."

Noticing a drugstore up ahead, she changed the subject. "I think we might need to make a slight detour before we go home."

Kurt followed her gaze and grinned, realising what she had in mind. "I'm still half convinced this is a dream I'm gonna wake up from."

"Do most of your sex dreams include lunch with Patterson and shopping for condoms? Don't answer that," she teased, before he could respond.

"Let's save the sex dream discussion for when we're back at your place."

* * *

As it turned out, there was only so much sex a couple could have before they needed to rest, which was just as well, because they needed to discuss the future. Kurt glanced in Jane's fridge, rolled his eyes, then got dressed and headed out for groceries, despite her protests that takeout was easier.

When he got back, he cooked spaghetti carbonara and they watched TV for a while, but once the food was gone, Jane sighed and hit the power button on the remote. "I guess we can't put off the talk any longer."

Kurt took her hand. "I was serious last night, you know. If you wanna stay in Los Angeles, I can apply for a transfer to the LA field office."

"But you'd have to take a pay cut and drop back down to Supervisory Special Agent, right?" Jane shook her head. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

Kurt couldn't help but smile a little. "Jane. You didn't ask. I'm offering. And yeah, I'd be taking a pay cut, but I'd also be stepping back from the political bullshit."

Jane nodded, thinking. He watched her tug at a loose thread on her robe, waiting patiently. Whatever she decided, he'd abide by it, and until she decided, he'd just enjoy being with her.

"You weren't wrong, you know. When you said I was missing New York." She gestured to the tattoo on her right arm, the Manhattan skyline at night. "Part of it is just me missing you, but there's something about New York. The atmosphere is just different—things just seem to move so quickly. And while I was there, working the tattoo cases, saving lives, helping people… I felt like I was really making a difference, you know?" A trace of bitterness crept into her voice. "Even though we were basically puppets on Sandstorm's strings that first year."

"We did a lot of good, too. Those corruption cases needed to be taken on. Never mind who gave them to us—we saved a lot of innocent people." Kurt skimmed his finger down the silhouette of the Empire State Building in her tattoo. "The tattoo casefile is closed. We've done everything we can with it, unless one of Patterson's algorithms finds something new. But with your experience in the field, and me and Reade vouching for you, I'll bet you could fast-track through Quantico within a couple of months, become a full agent."

Jane nodded. "I had thought about that. When I first made up my mind to leave, I mean. But I didn't think any of the other field offices would be wild about taking on an ex-terrorist with memory issues."

The idea of any field office turning away an asset like Jane made Kurt scowl protectively. "Well, the NYO will welcome you for as long as I'm running it."

Jane watched him for a moment, her face unreadable, then smiled, looking down at her hands.

"What?" he asked, curious to know where her mind was.

She leaned against him. "Just thinking."

Kurt gave her a quick peck on the lips that somehow turned into several long, slow, tempting kisses. He was beginning to recognise the wicked look that crossed her face right before she did something that would short-circuit his brain, and he quickly intercepted her, pulling her into his lap and pinning her arms to her sides.

"Not that I don't want to see what you have in mind, but don't we still have a decision to make?"

"Okay, okay…" She snuggled against him, and for the millionth time over the past twenty-four hours, his heart seemed to swell with love. "My business is four months old. I took an initial six-month lease of my premises in case things didn't work out, but so far, it's doing okay. Not great, but okay. If I did move back to New York, I'd want someone to buy me out, ideally. I might know someone who'd be willing to do that. But if I stayed here… I think we'd need to get a bigger apartment. I think I have three, maybe four months left on my lease here, either way…"

They threw around possibilities for another half-hour, before Jane looked up at him seriously. "What do _you_ think I should do, Kurt?"

He considered deflecting, but knew it would only irritate her. "Honestly… I don't know. You've got a life here. Your business is surviving, so far. You're a great tattoo artist and I know you could build up a loyal clientele over the next few years."

Jane nodded.

"On the other hand, you were an incredible asset at the FBI, and I think you'd be just as good as an agent. Or if you wanted to try opening a studio up in New York, I could support you until you get off the ground." He pushed a strand of hair back from her eye, suppressing the urge to kiss her again. "The question is, what's gonna make you the happiest, Jane? You've had your course picked for you your whole life. The orphanage, then Shepherd, the military, Sandstorm… Then you came out of the bag, and your path was set again—following the tattoos. Then when the NSA got involved, you had no choice but to go undercover to take out Sandstorm. It's time you pick your own path. I'll be with you, whatever you choose."

"Thank you," she said softly. "Knowing we'll be together no matter what… That helps a lot."

After a moment, she stretched and got to her feet. "I know we don't have much time left until you get back, but… I think I need to go for a run. Turn things over in my head a little. Is that okay?"

Kurt stood up and pulled her into a hug. "Take as much time as you need. Well, unless you don't plan to be back until tomorrow afternoon, because I have a flight to catch."

"I'll be an hour, if that. I'm sorry I can't just give you an answer right now, I just…" She shook her head apologetically.

"Jane. It's fine. You don't even need to decide tonight, if you need more time. We can talk about it on the phone when I get back to New York." He hated that his choices had led to Jane having to make this difficult decision. If he'd just told Jane how he felt before she'd left… But it was too late now.

She shed her robe and put on a workout outfit while he cleared up their dinner plates, exercising all his self-control to resist distracting her while she was naked.

"See you soon," Jane said, and gave him a swift kiss goodbye on her way to the door.


	7. Sandstorm Approaching

**Author's Note** : Well, this was going to be the last chapter, but then Roman showed up! You can thank gypsyscarfwoman for a lot of the plottier details in this one. And no, I'm not going to go into huge detail about what Roman is doing. Two more chapters max! I need to finish this fic soonish, in case I end up starting something based on season 4 canon.

* * *

Jane had only taken three steps outside her apartment when she began to get the feeling she was being watched. Instead of breaking into a jog the way she'd planned, she leaned against the wall of her apartment building and scrutinised her surroundings—the entrances to alleyways, the windows of buildings, the pedestrians and vehicles passing by.

 _Roman._ He was standing at the entrance to the alley opposite, and this time, instead of turning and disappearing into the crowd before she could reach him, he cocked his head further down the alleyway. After waiting a second to make sure she'd gotten the message, he faded into the shadows.

Jane crossed the street without stopping to think of the risks of meeting her terrorist brother in a dark alley. If he was willing to talk to her after all these years, instead of just letting her know he was around and then disappearing, she wanted to hear what he had to say.

Roman was leaning against the wall a short distance away, and she approached slowly, her hands held up and away from her sides to indicate that she was unarmed. He made no such gesture in return, which didn't surprise her. Of course he was armed.

"Hey, sis. Long time."

"Five years." Jane stopped just out of arms' reach of her brother, remaining wary, despite how happy she was to get the chance to talk to him. "Are you okay? Do you need money, food, a place to stay?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Gotta admit, that's not what I was expecting to hear. Last time we talked, you'd just beaten the shit out of me, and you had a gun pointed at my head."

"I let you walk away. And I wasn't the only one doing the beating." Jane sighed. "But you're my brother. If it's possible, I want you to be happy and safe."

He laughed at that, a little warmth coming back into his face despite his cynicism, and Jane felt a spark of hope ignite in her chest.

"How come you're letting me talk to you today? Every other time I've seen you, you disappeared before I could get to you."

Roman shrugged. "Might have something to do with your new bed partner." He nodded past her, back towards her apartment building, and she had to turn to make sure Kurt wasn't standing there, watching them. "I noticed you finally got around to getting together. Your first up close and personal interaction with the FBI in over half a decade, isn't it?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "You've been spying on me with Kurt? Really? That's just creepy."

"I left when the moaning started, don't worry." Roman looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Your neighbours probably all hate you right now, you know that?"

Jane covered her face with her hands for a moment, humiliated. "Seriously, Roman, I'm happy to see you, but what do you want?"

"To apologise."

Jane stared at him.

Roman shifted a little, sighing. "Had a lot of time to think. My memories started coming back pretty fast a year or so after the ZIP, and I remembered how you treated me as Remi, and how you treated me as Jane. How Shepherd treated us both, pitting us against each other, making our childhood a competition." He paused before continuing, "If I'd remembered everything at the time, I would have snapped Shepherd's neck when her back was turned. But I was mad at you for lying, and I went with her, and I fucked up my whole life."

"Roman," Jane whispered, stepping forward.

"You were right, you know. You're better now, as Jane. You're still you, but you've lost your darkness. Your bitterness." He grimaced. "I almost wish you'd given me as much ZIP as you got. You remember anything more?"

Jane leaned against the wall next to him. "Bits. Pieces. Something about you falling off a donkey on a beach."

Roman looked startled, then burst out laughing. "Because you pushed me."

"Hey, it's not my fault if you couldn't keep your seat."

"I was three years old!"

Jane laughed, and all of a sudden she was crying, and so was Roman. She took his hand and squeezed hard. "I never stopped thinking about you. Worrying about how you were, if you were in trouble."

Roman shook his head, sniffling as he wiped his eyes. "I've been keeping under the radar, especially when I visit the States. Been spending a lot of time in Nepal, actually. No extradition treaty to worry about if the Feds get wind of me."

"Nepal. That sounds…cold, mountainous and filled with Buddist monks."

"And so many goats." Roman grinned. "Actually, it's not that cold unless you're right up in the Himalayas. The south can be pretty nice."

"Do you speak Nepali?" Jane thought about it for a second. "Wait, do _I_ speak Nepali?"

Roman said something in a language she didn't comprehend.

"Well, that answers that question," Jane said, shaking her head.

"I wanted to talk to you because I'm guessing Weller won't be moving to Los Angeles, so you'll be on your way back to New York at some point." Roman watched her carefully.

"He offered to transfer down here, but that's the way I'm leaning, yeah. Do you have an opinion on that?"

"Apart from that I can remember the old you saying you'd rather die than fall in love with a Fed… No." Roman shrugged. "It's your life. Weller always treated me with far more respect than I deserved, though some of that was probably to do with the way he feels about you. He seems to be a decent guy."

Jane nodded. "Why do you care if I'm moving back to New York?"

"It's not the moving that's important. It's the connection to the FBI. I know you're in touch with Reade, but since he transferred to Quantico he's not really of use to me. Weller could be."

Her mind skipping ahead to why a connection to law enforcement might be so important, Jane stared into space for a moment. "The perpetrators of the bombs that went off at the other field offices at the start of Phase Two were never caught. Are they regrouping?"

"New leader, new mission." Roman smiled grimly. "You never met him, but I did. Ruthless son of a bitch. He reached out to me about a year ago. I've been in communication, keeping mostly out of things because I'm the one the Feds know about, but doing enough behind the scenes that they trust me."

"You're offering to turn on them?" Jane asked, her burgeoning sense of hope growing.

"You took your immunity deal and built a life for yourself. I wish I'd done the same. I know Weller could never persuade the DA to give me a deal now, after I turned on you and helped Shepherd in DC. But maybe, with this, I could have a little tattoo studio of my own someday. Yours is nice."

"Do you want it?"

Roman just smiled, as if she were joking.

"No, I'm serious. If I'm moving back to New York, I need to either shut down or sell up. If you don't have money, you can consider it a gift until you're earning enough to pay me back."

"I have money. Been doing some K and R work in Europe. But if I'm a wanted man, I can't exactly take on a business."

Jane nodded. "I'll talk to Kurt, see what he can set up. Where's the new cell headquartered?"

"San Diego."

"They have a field office," Jane said, almost to herself. Then she looked up at Roman. "They might ask you to go undercover in exchange for an immunity deal, the way I did."

"I just want to live without looking over my shoulder. I'll do whatever they need. God, Shepherd would be so proud of us," he added sarcastically. "You probably going back to the FBI, dating the golden boy who fell off her pedestal… Me planning to turn state's evidence…"

Jane sighed, a headache beginning to build at her temples. "Can we talk in a few days? Set up a meet the way I used to call Joey's Pizza, maybe? Kurt leaves tomorrow, but he'll have to make some calls and set things up with the local team, the legal department for any kind of deal they can cut you… I'll know more within a week, I guess."

"Sure." Roman took a scrap of paper out of his wallet and scrawled a number on it. "Burner phone. Just call it when you want to set up a meet."

"Just like the good old days." Jane said wryly.

"I was right about you going back to the FBI, then?" Roman grinned. "I hope someone tells Shepherd. I can hear her cursing now."

"I'm considering it." Jane put her hands on his upper arms, making sure she had his full attention. "Be careful. Stay low. I'll get a burner of my own by next time we meet, so you can get in touch."

Roman nodded.

Impulsively, Jane wrapped her arms around her brother and squeezed hard. "I love you. I never stopped."

When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes again, though he didn't let them fall. "Go on. You should get back to Weller."

Had Remi ever been able to tell him that she loved him, or had the orphanage trained all of the expression of positive emotions out of her? She hadn't expected Roman to say it back, knowing he would have the same hang-ups that her old self did.

Jane took a few steps towards the entrance to the alley, then hesitated and looked back. Roman had already slipped away into the night.

* * *

Kurt was done with the dishes and drying his hands on a towel when Jane came back into the apartment, moving with purpose. The smile of greeting on his face died as he realised she'd been crying, and her obvious worry and determination tipped him off that something was up.

"Jane? What happened?"

She gave him a tired smile. "It's okay, this isn't…about us."

Some of the tension left his shoulders, and he let out a relieved breath. "Talk to me."

Jane dropped down onto the couch and kicked off her sneakers. "You're gonna want to sit down for this."

Pulled between curiosity and concern, Kurt sat down beside her, and she took his hand. "Remember how we thought Sandstorm was neutralised? I just talked to Roman."

Kurt's muscles immediately tensed again. "What happened?"

By the time she'd finished filling him in, he was in full work mode, already beginning to strategise and recall what he knew about the teams based at the San Diego office. "I'll head into work tomorrow, straight from my flight. See what I can set up."

"Kurt, no." Jane surprised him by smiling. "Roman's known about this cell for a year. He'd have told me if an attack was imminent. You can take the rest of the day to get some rest after your flight. The world won't end."

He nodded slowly, and sighed. "I know. I'm just so used to moving fast where Sandstorm is concerned, I jumped straight back into that frame of mind."

"I love that you care so much about saving lives. But slow down." She laid her head on his shoulder. "Take some time to think some more. As long as I have a few answers for Roman in a week, that's all that matters at this point."

Kurt wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. "What are the odds? Less than forty-eight hours after I get a tattoo to commemorate the Sandstorm case, we get a new lead."

"You're gonna pass this one off to the San Diego office, right? Not try to handle it yourself?" Jane asked.

"I'll keep reviewing everything they've got, get you clearance in case anything about the way they work trips a memory for you. But they can handle the fieldwork." He kissed the top of her head. "You okay? Talking to Roman again is a big deal for you, even without this new Sandstorm plot."

She lifted her head to look at him, genuine joy in her expression. "Yeah. He wants to move on with his life, not throw in his lot with this new group. That's more than I ever hoped for. Do you think the DA will approve full immunity for him?"

Kurt hesitated, not wanting to give her false hope. "Truthfully? It depends what he's got, what he manages to do undercover, and the scale of the attack he helps us to prevent. If this is something on the scale of Phase Two, then I can't see a problem. Sandstorm holding up a liquor store? No deal. Anything in between could get him a reduced sentence, but something tells me he'd rather live on the run than spend time in a cell."

Jane nodded. "Yeah. Claustrophobes don't do well in eight-by-six cells," she said softly. "As awful as it is to say this, I hope what Sandstorm's planning is bad enough for Roman to get immunity."

"Me too." Kurt was surprised to realise it was true. Even knowing that Roman had killed Emma Shaw, and had helped Shepherd in DC, he'd genuinely liked the man he'd gotten to know in the short time Roman had been locked up in Zero Division. And considering that he'd fallen in love with Roman's sister, who'd had a larger part in Sandstorm's planning stages than Roman had… He couldn't exactly hold Roman's past misdeeds against him while ignoring Jane's.

"Thank you for not hating him. It means the world to me that you're willing to try to help him. You're a good man, Kurt."

"Or maybe Roman's right, and I just love you." He smiled a little as she shook her head.

"You'd do this whether or not we were still in touch. I know you." She sat up, turning to face him properly. "But since we _are_ together, I figure I should tell you what I decided tonight."

Distracted by Sandstorm, he'd almost forgotten about Jane's dilemma. He took her hands in his, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Would she want to stay here now, if her brother was going to be doing undercover work in California?

"I want to move back to New York. Go through Quantico. Sell my business to Roman, if he can get an immunity deal."

Relief flooded through him at her words. He'd been prepared to move here for her, but the version of the future she'd just described was the one he'd been hoping for. "Really? You want to work under me again?"

Jane gave him the same mischievous look she had earlier, when he'd had to stop her so she'd focus on making a decision. "In more ways than one."

Now there was no decision left to be made, he had no intention of distracting her from whatever she was planning. As she kissed him, she got to her feet and pulled him with her. Two steps towards the bedroom, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way, grinning at the sound of her startled laughter.

They only had tonight and tomorrow morning before he'd have to fly home without her. He planned to make the most of the time they had left.


	8. Sweet Sorrow

**Author's Note:** Goodbyes always suck, as Kurt and Jane find out in this chapter. And this time, there really will only be one more chapter after this! And no, I'm not going to go into huge detail about Roman's undercover mission. If anyone else wants to write it, they're more than welcome to, though. :) **  
**

* * *

"You're gonna miss your flight if you don't get out of bed soon." Jane didn't unwind her arms from around Kurt's neck, and he didn't move from where he'd collapsed on top of her, exhausted but satisfied.

"I know." He nuzzled her neck, making her smile.

"I'd tell you to call in sick and stay with me for another week, but Sandstorm…"

She'd been pretty sure that would get him moving, and it did. Kurt gave her a soft, affectionate kiss before getting out of bed and heading for the shower, leaving her smiling sadly up at the ceiling.

The time had flown by way too fast—not that there had been much of it to begin with—and now they were facing a separation of weeks, maybe months. Jane wouldn't be able to sell to Roman straight off—not while he was still wanted by the FBI, NSA, CIA and probably a few other agencies. She'd need to find an artist or two to temporarily manage things until Roman was in a position to buy—artists who were business-savvy enough not to destroy the studio's fragile profit margin in the meantime. It would take a few weeks to figure out the legal side of things, interview and hire the new managers, and make arrangements to ship her stuff to New York.

Kurt had persuaded her to move in with him straight off, arguing that they'd spent practically every day together for two years, and that they would likely spend all of their free time together anyway, so living in different apartments would just be wasting time and money. If any other man had said it, Jane would have turned him down flat, but Kurt… She'd always felt like there was some kind of deeper connection between them, though at first she'd written it off as a weird kind of imprinting on the first person to show her affection. She'd agreed to move into his apartment, rationalising that she could always find a place of her own later, if she decided she needed space.

Once she actually did move up to New York again, she'd then have to go through Special Agent training at the FBI Academy in Quantico, which would take at least a couple of months if she fast-tracked, and five months if they made her do the whole thing. Sure, she could drive home on weekends, or he could visit her—four and a half hours in a car wasn't that bad—but she knew she'd miss Kurt intensely while she was apart from him.

She tried not to dwell on the time she'd be spending without him, after it had taken so long for them to finally get together. What mattered was that she was beginning to take steps towards the life and career she really wanted, and she and Kurt would be together, even if they had to spend some time apart.

She threw on some clothes and made some coffee while Kurt showered and dressed, but it wasn't easy to think positively when Kurt began to pack up the few belongings he'd brought with him. Jane couldn't go with him to the airport—she had a booking with a new client that she couldn't really afford to cancel—and he'd be leaving within a few minutes.

"Hey." Kurt pulled her up from her seat on the couch, into his arms. "I'll call you when I get home, okay? It's not gonna be like before, when we didn't talk at all."

"I know." Jane pressed her lips against his neck and tried to memorise everything about his presence, so she could recall it later, when she missed him.

They held each other for long moments, until a text message made Kurt pull back. "Probably the cab driver telling me they're outside." He checked his phone and sighed. "Yeah."

"Talk to you in a few hours." Jane kissed him, lingering for longer than she meant to. He cradled her face in both hands as he kissed her back, their embrace full of tenderness and longing.

"I love you so much, Jane." Kurt rested his forehead against hers for a moment before giving her a final, quick kiss.

"I love you too." She stroked her thumb across his stubbled jaw, then stepped back, trying to make it easier on them both. "Go on. Have a good flight."

He nodded and opened the apartment door. "Bye."

Jane raised her hand in a silent wave, striving for a genuine smile but knowing she came up a little short. Kurt hesitated for a moment longer, then shut the door as he left, seeming to take all of the air out of the room with him.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Jane flopped back down on the couch and finished her coffee, trying to readjust to the apartment without Kurt in it. _You were perfectly fine without him for five years. You can last a few more weeks._

* * *

Kurt wearily shrugged out of his jacket, poured himself a drink, then headed to the couch. It was almost ten-thirty, though his watch still showed the time in Los Angeles, three hours earlier. He adjusted it back to the local time before calling Jane.

"Hey," she answered, after a couple of rings.

Kurt smiled and closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. "Hey, yourself."

"How was the flight? Did you just get home?"

They talked for a while, Kurt relating the story of the foul-mouthed toddler a few rows in front of him on the plane, the kid's wholly unconcerned parents, and the indignant old lady who'd taken it upon herself to try to teach them how to raise a child. Jane's laughter relaxed him, and he looked around the apartment, trying to imagine what might be different when she moved in, as she told him about her newly eighteen-year-old client's decision to have her boyfriend's name tattooed in giant letters across the small of her back.

"I guess you couldn't talk her into getting it done smaller, or not at all?" Kurt asked, amused.

"He was standing right there. I couldn't exactly ask her how she'd feel about having his name on her if they broke up. And I don't exactly have room to criticise other people's bad tattoo decisions. I had my memory erased right after getting _your_ name tattooed on me."

Kurt grinned. "Maybe she'll come in next month to have it covered up."

He felt the pull of sleep as he finished his Scotch, and finished his conversation with Jane with a quiet, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. But it's worth it."

"Hmm?" He couldn't quite follow her train of thought—probably because he was sorely lacking sleep.

"I mean… If you hadn't come down here, it'd just be another Monday night. But you did. I'm _so_ glad you did, Kurt." The emotion in her voice made his heart skip, and he ached to put his arms around her and hold on tight.

They said goodnight with soft, heartfelt declarations of love, and Kurt hung up with a smile on his face, despite how much he already missed having her close by.

Tomorrow he'd plunge back into work, loop in the San Diego field office on Sandstorm, and try to get the DA to see things his way when it came to Roman. God, he hoped he could come through for Jane when it came to Roman's deal. He still remembered the pure, astonished joy on her face when he'd managed to get Roman's psychiatrist to agree to let him out of his cell and into house arrest. It was one of his favourite memories of Jane. Anything he could do to make her that happy again would be worth it.

* * *

Patterson had wasted no time sending the news about Kurt and Jane through the FBI and former-FBI grapevine. Kurt had gotten a text of congratulations from Reade on Sunday night, another from Zapata, and had assumed that apart from a couple of agents and possibly the lab techs, no one else at work would particularly care about his relationship status.

As it turned out, he was wrong.

Whispers and giggles met his ears as he walked through SIOC, and more eyes seemed to be on him than on anything else. Reaching his office door, he turned and addressed the room at large. "Is there something you guys want to say to me?"

Brianna, his administrative assistant, approached with a huge smile. "Deputy Director, we heard you finally got together with Jane Doe and we're all just thrilled for you, that's all!"

Cheers and applause spread throughout the room as Kurt looked around, realising that around eighty percent of the staff working here had been part of CIRG since the days of Jane's original case. He couldn't help but smile, even as he wished he could sink into the floor at the unexpected celebration.

"Thank you, everyone. I appreciate that you care so much about my relationship status. Let's never make such a big deal out of it again. Get back to work."

A ripple of laughter greeted his words as agents and support staff alike focused on their monitors and paperwork again.

Imagining how embarrassed Jane would have been if she'd still worked here, Kurt shut himself in his office, shaking his head. While he waited for his computer to boot up, he sent a quick text to Patterson. _Is there anyone here you DIDN'T tell about me and Jane?_

 _Nah, I think I pretty much got everyone,_ came her response, complete with an emoji sticking its tongue out.

"No kidding," he murmured to himself, as he logged onto his computer.

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

Jane leaned against the wall in the alley, unsure if Roman would actually show up to their meeting. What if he'd had second thoughts?

"Hey."

Jane spun to find her brother approaching from the opposite direction than she'd expected. "There you are. Everything okay?"

"Just took a little longer to shake a tail than I thought." Roman shrugged, seeming unperturbed. "What's the news?"

Jane pulled out the paper on which she'd noted down everything he'd need, and held it out. "Your handler at the San Diego field office. She's not the team leader, but Kurt went through Quantico with her. He knows he can trust her. Her boss is apparently a decent guy too, but we figured you'd be more comfortable with someone Kurt can actually vouch for."

Roman nodded, taking the paper and reading the name there. "Special Agent Zoë Delarosa."

"That number's a burner she'll use just to deal with you. Give her a call; she'll meet you in person and you should be able to plan from there. The information you give her will come back to Kurt and he'll show it to me, just in case anything triggers a memory for me. It's a long shot, but you never know."

Roman nodded. "I don't have anything more to go on than I told you last week, but if I have the FBI's blessing I can start working my way in towards the inner circle, figure out some more details."

Jane tried not to flinch, remembering her own catastrophic undercover mission with Sandstorm. "Please be careful, Roman. They'll know you were in FBI custody for a couple of months. That'll make them suspicious."

"They also know Shepherd busted me out and that I went to DC with her. Plus, I didn't spell anyone's name wrong when I spray-painted it on a truck, so..."

Jane rolled her eyes. "God, that was a stupid mistake. But how was I supposed to know? It's not like anyone called him 'Markos spelled with a K'."

Roman grinned. "Anyway, it was trying to send Patterson the chip code that got you busted, not the spelling. I'll be careful, I promise. How much longer are you in LA?"

"Just over a week. I hand the studio over to the new guys on Saturday, and hopefully they'll keep it afloat until I can sell it to you. If not, you're gonna have to start from scratch."

"If it works out, great. If not…maybe I'll come and start up a studio in New York." Roman shrugged. "Anyway, this is the last time I'll see you before you move. I'm heading up to San Diego tomorrow and depending on how things go, I could be undercover by the end of the week."

"Good luck." Jane hugged him tightly. "Stay safe. If I need to contact you, I'll send a message through Agent Delarosa."

"I'll do the same. Hope your move goes well. Say hi to Weller for me." Roman gave her a quick, ironic salute and turned to leave.

"Bye, Roman." Jane watched him go, hoping desperately that it wouldn't be the last time she'd see her brother alive.


	9. Graduation Day

**Author's Note:** And here we go! Another fic finished (and so, so many left to write - for the anonymous reviewer who suggested a plot idea a couple of chapters back, I'll add it to my list, but no promises! And for the anonymous reviewer who begged for kink - I'll definitely be posting a kink-fic at some point, though I think in their relationship, Jane is the top, so that kind of reduces the interest for a lot of readers, who would be more into Dom-Kurt. I really wish I could write him as dominant too, trust me. I've tried and it doesn't work.) **  
**

I know people would be more than fine with more smut in this chapter, but I'm trying to stick to the 'smut as character development' rule and not just randomly write sex in my multi-chaptered fics just because. So there are hints, but nothing explicit here.

* * *

 **Three months later**

Jane gritted her teeth and climbed hand over hand up the rope suspended from the ceiling, her muscles protesting the effort as she clung on with hands and knees. In around three hours, the graduation ceremony for Quantico's newest special agents would be starting—no one else was bothering to work out today. But Jane had decided her free time was better spent training than sitting around getting nervous with the other members of her graduating class.

Walking onto a stage and taking her new credentials from a guy, shaking his hand and walking off the opposite side shouldn't be such a big deal, but Jane couldn't remember ever doing anything like it before. The fact that Kurt, Reade and Patterson were all going to be there meant a lot to her. While they might not have been biological or even adopted family, they were her chosen family, and she was touched that they'd all wanted to watch her graduate.

Not that it was really much of a stretch for Reade, who'd been one of her instructors. She'd had to limit her social contact with him, since it might have brought his objectivity into question about her training, but it had eased her mind to see how happy he was in his current job.

Reaching the top of the rope, Jane silently counted to ten before sliding half of the way back down, then dropping the rest, falling into a crouch to lessen the impact on her legs. As she straightened, rolling her shoulders to encourage blood to flow into her aching arms, the door to the gym opened and Reade looked in.

"Figured you'd be here," he said, grinning. "Come on."

Jane had thought the last part was directed at her, but as he spoke, he came into the gym, followed by two familiar figures, and someone she didn't recognise but didn't waste time wondering about.

"Kurt!" Jane jogged the short distance to the door and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "You're early." Belatedly, she tried to pull back. "Oh, no, don't let me get sweat on you when you look so good."

"Hey, Special Agent Doe." Kurt didn't let go for another couple of seconds, as if to prove he didn't care if she soaked him in her sweat. He gave her an all-too-brief kiss hello as they parted. "I'm so proud of you."

Smiling, Jane looked from him to her next guest. "Patterson, I'm so glad you could make it."

Patterson pulled her into a hug too—apparently nobody cared that she needed a shower. "This place brings back so many memories. My trainers were relentless."

Jane grinned at Reade. "Mine too."

"Hey, you breezed the whole thing. They should have just handed you the badge the day you got here." Reade adjusted his bow tie a little, smiling back.

She shook her head. "I understand why I had to go through it. And after five years, I was a little rusty. Still glad I was fast-tracked, though."

Kurt indicated the woman Jane didn't recognise. She was a petite Hispanic woman, around Kurt's age, with her long hair pulled back into a severe braid that made her look a little intimidating until she smiled. "Jane, this is Agent Zoë Delarosa. She's been—"

"Working with Roman," Jane realised, shaking the agent's offered hand. "Nice to meet you. Is… Is everything okay with my brother?"

Agent Delarosa's smile widened. "Actually, you should ask him yourself."

Jane blinked at her, then looked from one to the other of her friends. "What…?"

A hand on her shoulder made her turn, and she gasped. "Roman!"

Roman laughed as she threw her arms around him. "You weren't kidding. You really need to shower."

Jane released him, giving him a glare that did nothing to hide the huge smile on her face, then looked from him to Agent Delarosa. "What are you doing here? Is this safe?"

"We took down the remains of Sandstorm last week," Roman said proudly, as Delarosa nodded.

Jane had been keeping up with the case as it had progressed. The people who'd taken charge after Shepherd's capture had been less anti-government and more anti-military. Roman and the FBI had set up a taskforce with NCIS, who had initially tried to take over their investigation. The last she'd heard, Sandstorm had been planning to take out the entire San Diego naval fleet—the largest in the country—with enough nuclear material to wipe out the whole population of California.

But now Roman was telling her it was over—Sandstorm had failed.

"What? Why didn't someone tell me?" Jane demanded.

"Because I wanted to surprise you by being here for your graduation." Roman grinned. "Didn't you know the President was touring the naval base last week? We saved her life, too."

Speechless, Jane stared at him. She'd been so worried about him for so long, and now he was safe, her mind was having trouble shifting gears.

"Jane." Kurt drew her attention, taking her hand. "Roman's been given full immunity for his help. He's a free man, as of three days ago."

Jane sagged against him, the anxiety she'd been living with for the past few months finally dissipating. "Thank you," she whispered, looking from Kurt to Agent Delarosa and back again. "Thank you so much."

When she looked back at Roman, he had his arm around Patterson and was smiling down at her, a soft, affectionate look on his face. Jane's relief became confusion. "Wait a minute. What is this?"

Patterson shot her an apologetic look. "So, I kinda sorta…started dating your brother. I signed on to help the taskforce after Weller told me what was going on, and we got talking about your tattoos and the puzzles behind them, and…" She shrugged. "I know it might be kind of weird for you, but I figured at least I know that he used to be a terrorist already."

Jane gave up on trying to process everything, shaking her head.

"Okay, guys, my brain is about to explode right now. If anyone else has any huge revelations for me, save them for after my graduation ceremony, okay?" She shook her head, looking down at her sweaty workout gear. "Do you guys mind grabbing a coffee or something while I get a shower?"

"Come on, guys. There's a great coffee shop not far from here." Reade opened the door and herded everyone out. Soon she and Kurt were the only ones left in the gym.

Jane rested her head on his shoulder, sighing. "I'm so glad you're here."

Kurt kissed the top of her head. "I know how worried you've been about Roman, but you don't have to anymore. He's safe, and he and Patterson actually seem like a good fit when you get used to the idea."

"I think I'll get used to the idea some other time. For now, I'm just not even gonna think about it." She looked up at Kurt, making an effort to reset her brain to where it had been before Roman had sneaked in. "I missed you so much."

He kissed her gently, and she lost herself in his arms for long moments, regaining her equilibrium. "I can't believe I get to take you home for good today."

Jane could hardly believe it, either. Their separation had only been for two months, and he'd visited on a weekend around a month ago, but it seemed like an eternity. "Can we just fast-forward to the part where we get back to our apartment and you carry me to bed, and we stay there all weekend?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow suggestively. "We could, but I thought you needed to take a shower before your ceremony, and I was planning to help scrub your back."

"Hmmm… Fine, we can skip the fast-forward." Jane took his hand and pulled him towards the locker room, extremely happy to focus on the present for now.

* * *

"This place is a trip down memory lane, huh?" Zoë Delarosa looked around the large room, with its stage and podium at one end, and its rows upon rows of seating. "Remember walking across that stage and getting our own badges?"

Kurt pretended to think about it. "Vaguely. Through the mists of time."

He'd been twenty-one when he'd first graduated and started his on-the-job training at the Philadelphia field office. Bethany Mayfair had been his direct superior, and she'd scared the shit out of him as she'd taught him how to be a good agent. When Mayfair had taken a job as a Supervisory Special Agent at the NYO, she'd persuaded him to come along with her, and by the time she'd stepped up to being Deputy Director, she'd told him she'd taught him pretty much all he needed. He'd moved up the ladder to SSA not long after, and held the position for around six years before Jane Doe arrived. Mayfair had still had valuable lessons to impart, though—not least, that nobody was perfect, and that corruption could arise in the least likely of places.

He wondered what Mayfair would think of Jane becoming a fully qualified agent. Despite the way she'd died—confused and enraged by Jane's involvement with Oscar—Kurt thought she'd approve of the way Jane had redeemed herself.

Sitting on Kurt's other side, Patterson sighed fondly. "I was so proud to get my badge. I had awful stage fright on graduation day, though." She glanced over at Roman. "You think Jane's nervous?"

"Probably. You're forgetting—I don't know her as well as you do. She isn't the same person she was before the ZIP. Remi would have been fine, but Jane..." He shrugged.

"She's not a huge fan of having everyone stare at her," Kurt said. "I guess when your first few memories are of being stared at and puzzled over by various members of law enforcement, that doesn't exactly build confidence."

"I can't even imagine," Zoë murmured. "I had no idea about most of Jane's case until I read the file as history for _our_ case, and what she put herself through…" She shook her head.

Roman gave her a rueful look. "Shepherd raised her army of two well. And once an idea gets in Remi's head…"

"She'll do what she wants, no matter what you say," Kurt filled in, unable to stop himself from smiling. _And I love her for it. And despite it._

"You're a brave man for taking that on, Weller." Roman grinned at him, and they shared a look of tolerant understanding as the ceremony began.

There was the usual speech about fidelity, bravery and integrity, a little more long-winded than Kurt remembered from his own ceremony. He noticed Patterson smothering a yawn before the graduates were announced, in alphabetical order.

When Jane's name was called, and she strode across the stage to the centre podium, Jane's friends—both newly made at the Academy and her guests here to see her graduate—added cheers and whistles to the applause. All of the new agents wore sharp grey business suits, and Kurt fleetingly wondered if he could persuade Jane to leave hers on for the drive home, so he could take it off her piece by piece when they got back to New York. Dismissing the thought, he applauded until his hands hurt as Jane was given her official FBI identification and badge. She shot a quick, shy smile in her friends' direction as she left the stage.

After that, the rest of the ceremony passed quickly, and Jane returned to them at the end, hugging them and accepting congratulations before admiring her shiny new ID in its leather wallet.

"You'll get sick of it soon enough. It'll get wrinkled, or suspects will spit on it…" Patterson rolled her eyes.

"You never got over that time, did you?" Reade joined them from where he'd been sitting with the rest of the instructors, and enfolded Jane in a hug. "Congratulations, Agent Doe."

"Do you hug all your new graduates?" she asked, laughing. "Or is this that 'special treatment' you said you couldn't give me when I asked if you wanted to go grab a drink?"

"Hey, you're not in my class anymore. I'll buy you ten drinks if you want." He cast an amused look at Kurt. "Then you can sleep it off all the way back to New York."

"Actually, I'd rather have something to eat. Want to grab lunch before we all go our separate ways?" Jane suggested.

Kurt noticed a familiar face in the crowd and blinked, startled. _Is that…?_ Before he could confirm what he thought he'd seen, a couple of people walked through his line of vision, and by the time he focused again, there was no one there.

"Hold that thought. I'll be right back." He kissed the top of Jane's head distractedly and headed for the exit, where he was reasonably sure he'd find…

"Tasha!"

Zapata slowed at his call, but didn't turn around. Kurt caught up to her, frowning. "I thought it was you. You okay?"

She wiped a tear from her face and nodded. "Yeah. I just… I wanted to be there for Jane's graduation, but I knew she and Reade wouldn't want to see me, so I didn't tell anyone I was coming. Even Patterson doesn't know."

Kurt sighed and pulled his friend into a hug. He still didn't understand why she'd chosen to leave the FBI for the CIA, and he was still pissed at her for it, but it was hard not to sympathise with her obvious pain and longing for the friends she'd lost by doing so. "Tasha, it's obvious you miss us. Is this job really worth it?"

She smiled sadly, pulling back. "What, you think Jane and Reade are gonna magically forgive me just because I quit? I've been in this job four years now, Weller. Maybe if I'd left after six months, but not now. The things I've done… Anyway, people can't go back, they can only go forward."

"Yeah? Well, Jane was a tattoo artist for five years, and now she's back at the FBI."

"That's different." Zapata shook her head. "When she was there before, it was as a Trojan horse, then as a pawn of the NSA. Now she's chosen it as a career in its own right. It's not like she just left a job and came back to it."

Kurt nodded in the direction of the ceremony hall. "Even though she's mad at you, I think it would mean something to Jane to know you're here. Reade, too."

Zapata shrugged. "Then tell them I was here. But I can't stay." She turned to go.

"Zapata?" Jane's incredulous voice behind them made Tasha visibly flinch.

Kurt looked around to see the rest of the group approaching. Patterson said something to Roman and Zoë, who hung back as Reade and Jane drew level with Kurt and Zapata. Patterson joined them a moment later.

"What are you doing here?" Jane asked sharply.

Kurt put his hand on her shoulder, hoping to calm her a little. "She came to see you graduate."

"I knew you wouldn't want to see me, so I wasn't going to come over. But Weller noticed me as I was leaving." Zapata met Jane's eyes for a brief moment. "Congratulations. Really. I'll… I'll go now."

As she began to walk away, everyone exchanged looks of consternation and concern. As Kurt had expected, Jane's strong sense of empathy overruled her anger, and she called, "Tasha."

Her body language defensive, Zapata turned and waited.

Jane crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Tasha, who looked stunned, then embraced Jane in return, struggling not to break down in tears. Kurt exchanged looks with Reade and Patterson, cocking his head in Jane's and Tasha's direction.

Patterson wrapped her arms around Tasha from behind, beginning a group hug. "You should have told me you were coming, silly."

Kurt joined them, a lump forming in his throat as he heard Tasha sob. He joined the hug, looking across at Reade with a raised eyebrow.

Reade sighed and walked over, completing the team comfort-pile. "You really are your own worst enemy, you know that, Tash?"

"I'm so sorry." Zapata's voice was muffled in the centre of the embrace. "I didn't know Keaton was gonna be my immediate boss, and by the time I realised how screwed up it was, it was too late, and you all hated me. So I just carried on. I tried to make the CIA my new family, but…"

"Yeah, like Keaton and his merry band of bastards could ever replace us," Reade joked gently, as they all separated. Patterson handed Zapata a tissue, as Kurt put his arm around Jane, and Reade stood by his old partner protectively.

"We're all going to grab some food, if you want to come," Jane offered.

Kurt's heart swelled with love at the olive branch she was offering. Maybe it was because she'd once been the black sheep of the team, distrusted and disliked by everyone after the revelation of her betrayal. She knew how it felt to be on the outside. Whatever her reason, her compassion made him so damn proud.

"I don't want to put any extra drama in your special day—" Tasha protested.

"You're not getting out of this one," Kurt said. "As your former boss, I'm ordering you to come and eat with us."

Tasha blew her nose while she hesitated, but then she nodded, with a genuine but shaky smile. "Okay. Sounds good. Thanks, everyone."

* * *

It had been a long, emotional rollercoaster of a day—her graduation, Roman's immunity deal and meeting Agent Delarosa, bidding farewell to new friends she'd made at the Academy, re-bonding with Tasha—and Jane was exhausted by the time she and Kurt arrived back in New York City that evening.

As they carried Jane's luggage up from the car to the apartment, she couldn't quite believe that the transitional period was over. Since she and Kurt had gotten together, she'd spent a month apart from him in Los Angeles, then almost a month living with him before she'd headed for Quantico. Now they had no more imminent separations, and their life together stretched out ahead of them.

The sight of the living room made something relax in her chest, and she let her bag slide to the floor, smiling up at Kurt. "It's good to be home."

"And it's so, so good to have you home." Kurt set down the bags he'd been carrying and pulled her into a kiss. "Welcome back, Jane."

Her weariness receding, Jane looked up at him through her eyelashes. "So, remember what I mentioned about us getting home and you carrying me to the bed so we could stay there all weekend?"

"I guess that part's now, huh?" Kurt lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he carried her down the hall to the bedroom.

She hit the mattress with a disorienting bounce, and by the time she figured out which way was up, Kurt had joined her. She melted into his kiss, sighing with contentment and entwining her fingers with his.

The past five years had been a struggle to find herself, to define herself outside of the NYO, the tattoo casefile and Sandstorm. But as she faced the future with Kurt—the man she'd loved for longer than she'd previously dared to admit—she now felt like she knew who she was, without the spectre of her past looming over her, and the path she'd chosen felt right.

This was where she wanted to be.

* * *

 **Final Author's Note:** Thank you so much for reading! Any squees, criticism, Blindspot chatter or writing advice are very much appreciated. :)


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